


X- and Average Men

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Heroes - Fandom, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-09-14
Packaged: 2017-11-14 04:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 29,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt, Mohinder, Molly, and the X-Men.  Bring it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in 2007, hence having fun with my X-Men line-up. (Remember when X-Men still had fun in it? Sigh.)

Matt was working an apartment burglary when his cell phone vibrated against his hip. A scene tech, kind enough to notice Matt’s hands being gloved, took the liberty of pulling the phone from its holster and placing it on his shoulder so that Matt could hold it with the weight of his head.

“Thanks,” he said, and then, “Matt Parkman.”

“Mr. Parkman, this is Natalie Timpora at Molly’s school. We need to see you or,” there was a sound of rustling paper, “Dr. Suresh,” she pronounced it with a long ‘e’ sound and Matt cringed a little, “as soon as possible. Molly’s gotten herself into a bit of trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” 

“There was a fight on the playground. From what I understand, Molly was defending a friend of hers because the other kids were calling her friend names. She punched a young man in the nose.”

“She _what_?”

“Punched a young man in the nose,” Natalie repeated. “He’s fine, it just bled a little. But the principal obviously needs to see you or Dr. Suresh,” again with the long ‘e’.

“I can get ahold of him. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Thank you, Mr. Parkman.”

Matt used his now un-gloved right hand to close his phone and tuck it back into its pouch. He spotted Fuller across the room and made his way over carefully, wary of tripping over any of the techs that were crouching around searching for evidence. “Fuller,” he said as he approached the man, “Molly’s school just called. She punched some kid in the face, and they need me down there.”

Fuller grinned and waved him off. “Go ahead. I’ve got this. The other kid okay?”

“No broken nose, I guess that’s something.” Matt tried to pretend like he wasn’t grinning with a little bit of paternal pride at his daughter kicking ass and taking names, but he finally gave up and smiled full out. “I think I’ll take her out for ice cream.”

“Double scoop if she made the kid cry.”

“I’ll leave that out when I talk to the principal.” Matt waved goodbye and made his way through the apartment and down the stairs. He waited until he was descending the steps to the subway before calling Mohinder.

“Doctor Suresh,” spoken with plenty of noise in the background, so Mohinder was out and about in the city.

“Hey, it’s me. Molly’s school just called. They need to see us.”

“Is she all right?” The sudden panicked undertone made Matt look around him warily. Two years gone, and their paranoia could still feed off each other at the barest idea of danger.

“She’s fine. She got in a fight.”

“A _fight_?”

“She was defending someone,” Matt said as he scanned his metro card and went through the turnstile. “No one got seriously hurt. Some punk kid got a bloody nose.”

Mohinder’s laugh on the other end of the line was half-relief, Matt knew. “You’re just assuming he’s a punk kid so you won’t have to lecture the princess.” His tone was light, teasing, and it made Matt grin.

“The woman who called me told me the other kids started it. The princess was defending one of her friends.”

“Are you on your way?”

Matt stepped onto the train and grabbed an overhead handrail. “The train’s loading now. I should be there in twenty minutes.”

“You’ll beat me there, but I shouldn’t be far behind.”

“See you when you get there.”

“No congratulating her until we listen to the principal.”

Matt laughed. “Fine. But afterwards, ice cream.”

“If we don’t ground her.”

“She was defending someone!”

“As far as you know.” Mohinder was laughing as well. “I still want to wait and see.”

“Scientist.”

“Sucker. I’ll see you soon.”

“Okay.” Matt closed his phone and leaned forward as the train started moving. He took quick inventory of the rest of the people in the car, noticing a striking red head near the front. He decided after watching her for a minute that she wasn’t dangerous just ridiculously attractive and let himself relax into the sway of the train.

*

Molly was sitting outside the principal’s office in a bright yellow chair when Matt walked down the hall. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps but didn’t jump up to greet him.   
_  
Molly?_

_Are you mad?_ Molly’s voice inside Matt’s head was unsure but held an edge of defiance.

“What happened?” Matt asked as he crouched in front of her, checking her over for damage. She had bandages on two of her knuckles and a scratch under her ear. “What’s this?” He traced the scratch lightly, tilting her head to get a better angle.

“They were picking on Rebecca, and I told them to quit, and they kept doing it, and then they started poking at her and shoving her, and I told them to stop, and they didn’t…” Molly trailed off and stared at her shoes, the defiance going out of her voice, “I know I’m not supposed to fight.”

“Hey, if you were defending someone, that’s not the same as provoking someone else, okay? Rebecca’s your friend, and if you say you were trying to help her, I believe you.”

“But what if-“

“It’ll be okay,” Matt said over her, pulling her close for a quick hug and wondering, yet again, just how screwed up they all were that a schoolyard fight could lead to all three of them fearing for their safety. “Who’s around who’s going to hurt you?” He asked into her hair.

“No one,” she said in a small voice, sounding very much like the eight-year-old Matt had found under the staircase.

“And who’s going to protect you?”

“You and Mohinder.”

“And who do you think is going to win?”

“We are.”

“Damn straight we are.” Matt hugged her a little tighter before letting go. He looked up as the door to the principal’s office opened and stood as Ms. Erickson, the principal, walked out.   
“Detective Parkman, I thought I saw you come in.” She held out her hand, and they shook. “I assume you’re waiting for Dr. Suresh.” She pronounced it correctly, like the ‘e’ in ‘mesh’.

“Yes, ma’am. He should be here in just a minute.” Matt placed his hand on Molly’s head and looked between her and the principal. “Is Molly in any serious trouble?”

“No,” Ms. Erickson smiled at Molly. “No worse than usual anyway.”

That made Matt smile. Molly had started at the junior high the year before, and both Matt and Mohinder had become acquainted with Ms. Erickson because of the occasional trouble Molly found by having the sheer audacity [as Mohinder always said sarcastically] to be an energetic teenager who occasionally had issues with sitting still or staying quiet. They both appreciated Ms. Erickson, thanks in no small part to the outrageously thorough background check they’d run on her and the school with a little help from Bennet. She was a fair woman and in no way put off with the state of Molly’s home life.

“I’m here,” Mohinder announced as he jogged up the hallway. He flashed Matt a smile while pulling Molly into a hug. “You’re all right?” he asked her quietly.

“I’m okay,” she said, but Matt saw her hug Mohinder just a little bit tighter. “I was defending myself.”

“I don’t doubt it, but we still have to talk with Ms. Erickson.”

“I know,” she pulled away from Mohinder and sat back into the yellow chair. “I’ll be here.”

Mohinder smiled at the low-key dramatics and reached into his messenger bag to retrieve a thick, well-worn book. “I did bring something to entertain you.”

Matt couldn’t see the title, but he knew that whatever it was, it probably centered around Molly’s recent obsession with genetics. If there were such as thing as heredity through osmosis, Matt wouldn’t be surprised. He raised his eyebrows when Mohinder looked at him. _She’s supposed to be getting punished._

_Not according to you._

He couldn’t argue against his own point, so Matt just shook his head and turned back to Ms. Erickson. “I assume Mohinder and I are to go in first.”

“If you would, please.” Ms. Erickson stepped aside to let the men precede her into the office and followed behind them, making certain the door latched as she did so. They all got settled, Ms. Erickson behind her desk, Mohinder and Matt in matching chairs on the opposite side, and then Ms. Erickson spoke again. “She was defending a friend of hers, Rebecca, from some of the other kids. I don’t plan to do anything outside of talking to her about the proper way to handle conflict in the future.”

“What will you be telling her?” Matt asked.

“I will be explaining that while it’s never a bad thing to defend a friend, using violence to solve violence doesn’t lead anywhere that’s useful or productive. I’ll encourage her to seek out a teacher or someone else in authority next time. Molly’s a very good student and well-liked, but she does have the occasional issues with asking for help.” Ms. Erickson looked back and forth from Matt to Mohinder as though she was trying to place the blame on something they’d taught her. “Does she have similar problems at home?”

_All yours._ Matt told Mohinder. Mohinder always had a way of phrasing the truth without actually saying much.

“Molly’s childhood, before we adopted her, was somewhat traumatic,” Mohinder started. “She’s not afraid of authority, but she is wary about who she speaks with about her problems. She’s very smart, and we tell her so. I’m afraid that she’s confused ‘smart’ with ‘in charge’ in this particular case. She doesn’t think to ask for help because she doesn’t think she’ll need it.”

Ms. Erickson tapped her upper lip with one finger, obviously considering. “Dr. Suresh, Detective Parkman, Molly’s a very special young woman. She’s bright, as you’ve mentioned, and she’s an excellent student, but I feel she has talents that aren’t being explored as they could be.”

Matt’s stomach clenched in a knot. He glanced over at Mohinder and saw the way he settled his jaw into a tense line. It was dangerous talk, and while Ms. Erickson said it with an easy, casual tone, Matt could hear more in the undertone. He tried to get inside her head, but there was a block. He was on his feet instantly, pulling Mohinder up by the arm. “Ms. Erickson-“ was as far as he got when Molly suddenly screamed into his head.

_Help me! There’s some guy here!_

Matt ripped open the door of the office, Mohinder crowding his back, and found Molly in the hallway, standing in her chair, while an older gentleman in an electric wheelchair clutched at his head. “What the hell?” Matt demanded, swinging around to face Ms. Erickson over Mohinder’s shoulder. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Oh, dear.” Ms. Erickson maneuvered around Matt and Mohinder and crouched next to the wheelchair. “I’m sorry, Professor,” she murmured, one hand patting the man’s arm. She looked at Matt and Mohinder, and then at Molly, who was scrambling down from her chair to place herself in between Matt and Mohinder. “Gentlemen, Molly, I have to apologize. I should have handled introductions first.” Ms. Erickson stood and smoothed her pants, sparing a glance for the man in the wheelchair who seemed to be recovering from the shock to his system. “Detective Parkman, Dr. Suresh, Molly, I’d like you to meet Professor Xavier.”

The man in the wheelchair shook his head once and looked straight at Molly. “Miss Walker, I must say that you have an impressive shout in that head of yours.”

Matt’s hand went to rest on the butt of his gun. Mohinder reached forward and wrapped his fingers around Matt’s wrist. “Xavier, was it?” Mohinder asked.

_What the hell?_

_Trust me, Matt._ Mohinder stepped around Molly and Matt, placing himself to keep Molly mostly covered. “Charles Xavier?”

“That’s right.” The man smiled, a pleasant look on him. “Dr. Mohinder Suresh, son of Dr. Chandra Suresh.” Xavier looked at Matt. “And Detective Matt Parkman. You’ve been setting off our notices for years.”

Matt’s hand tightened around his gun butt again. “Who the hell are you? What do you want?” _How did you hear Molly?_

_The same as you, Detective._

Matt reeled slightly, knocking Molly back half a step before regaining his footing. “You-“

“Gentlemen, Molly,” Ms. Erickson interrupted, “I think this is a conversation better had in the privacy of my office.”

There was a brief, tense stand-off before Mohinder relaxed his shoulders and put his hand on Matt’s arm. “We could at least listen.”

Matt’s eyebrows shot up, and he floundered for a moment before finally finding words. “Who is this guy? How do you know him?” _Why are you trusting him?_ Matt turned his head to look at Xavier. The man was sitting placidly, hands in his lap, giving Matt a small smile. Matt wasn’t sure if he should smile back or punch the man straight in the jaw. “Who is he?” He asked Mohinder again.

“His name is Charles Xavier. He runs a school in Westminster for particularly gifted children,” Mohinder said quietly, his hand on Matt’s arm pushing down a bit more firmly. _He’s in my father’s notes. They spoke a few times._

_Have you ever talked to the man?_

_No._

_Why not?_ There was silence from Mohinder, and Matt took that as his cue. “If you don’t know, we’re leaving,” he said aloud. “Molly, do you have your backpack?” 

“It’s under the chair.”

Matt reached down and grabbed it, handing it to her, and then keeping her out of Xavier’s line of sight as they made their way down the hall. 

“Matt, surely there’s…” Mohinder began but trailed off at the look Matt threw him. They made it outside, and Mohinder tried again. “He didn’t seem threatening.”

“He read my mind,” Matt spat, looking left to right, then forward and behind them, checking all their blind spots as they moved towards the sidewalk and into the crowd. “I heard him in my head.” 

“He was in mine, too,” Molly said, her voice small. She reached out and grabbed both their hands, holding tight. “Do you think-“

“I know his name,” Mohinder interrupted, not wanting to go down a darker path than necessary. “His name is somewhere in my notes.”

“So was Sylar.”

Mohinder stopped walking, his sudden halt causing both Matt and Molly to jerk. He glared at Matt, tense everywhere except where he was holding Molly’s hand. “That was entirely inappropriate.”

Matt cringed and rubbed his face and dropped Molly’s hand so he could pinch the bridge of his nose. “I know. I’m sorry. I just-“

“We’re going home,” Mohinder said, his voice calmer, his stance relaxing a bit. “I’ll go through my notes. We’ll order pizza. We’ll stay in tonight.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Matt dropped his hands to his sides. “I am sorry.”

“I know.” Mohinder looked down as Molly pulled her hand out of his. “Problem?”

“I’m thirteen,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I can’t be seen holding your hand all the time.” The bravery was a façade, but Mohinder smiled at her anyway.

“Then I suppose a celebratory ice cream cone is too juvenile for you as well.”

“Ice cream?”

“For defending Rebecca,” Matt explained, sharing a quick grin with Mohinder. “But if you feel it’s beneath you, we won’t put you though the embarrassment.”  
“I don’t have to hold anyone’s hand to get ice cream,” Molly protested. “Can we go to the place by the apartment?”

“Well,” Matt dragged out the word until Molly put her hands on her hips and gave him the patented teenage glare. “I suppose. If Mohinder’s okay with it.”

Molly looked up at Mohinder, eyebrows raised, but trying to look unimpressed. “Can we?”

Mohinder pretended to think about it, smiling inwardly at the way Molly shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I suppose.”

“Great!” Molly beamed and turned on her heel to lead the way to the nearest subway entrance. Mohinder and Matt fell into step behind her.

_How long do you think this distraction will last?_

Matt considered the question as they clattered down the steps to the subway. _Long enough to get her home and triple bolt the door, I hope._

*

Charles Xavier sat in Ms. Erickson’s office and accepted the cup of hot water she’d just poured from her electric kettle. “Thank you,” he said, when she handed him a tea bag.

“I should have handled this better,” Ms. Erickson sipped her own steeping tea. “I didn’t think they’d react so negatively.”

“It is not your fault, Beverly. Their reaction had much less to do with either of us and much more to do with some instances of interest in their combined pasts.”

“Dr. Suresh mentioned that Molly had had some trauma in her childhood.”

“Yes, I saw a few images before she called for help.” Charles dangled his tea bag and considered what he’d seen. A younger Molly, a tall thin man with black hair, and blood running down the face of a woman Charles assumed was her mother. All of it seen from a small crack in some type of woodwork. “Traumatizing”, Charles thought, just barely scratched the surface.

“Is your head better?” Beverly asked, pulling Charles from his thoughts.

“Yes, thank you.” He sipped his tea and gave her a smile. “And had we known of Mr. Parkman’s particular gift, I think this meeting would have been more successful. The blame is not entirely upon you, as I said. I believe I spooked the poor man.”

“What will you do?”   
“I have a back-up plan. It’s best to always have one in place in these cases. It will be handled, hopefully better, within a few hours.”

*

The ice cream had been a distraction until two minutes after Molly finished it. She washed her hands at the kitchen sink, turned from the counter, and cocked her head at Matt. “Are we in trouble?”

Matt, at the kitchen table pretending to type a case report, closed his laptop and gave Molly his full attention. “That depends on what Mohinder finds.”

“And what if what he finds is bad?”

“I don’t know,” Matt rubbed his neck and glanced towards Mohinder’s office. The door was closed, the “Mad Scientist” sign Molly had made for the doorknob was swinging lightly. “But since no one’s torn down the door, I bet we’re okay for now.”

“Should we call anyone?”

“Like who?”

“I dunno. The Petrellis or Mr. Bennet, or someone. Shouldn’t we tell them someone found us?”

Matt let out a long breath and considered it. It wasn’t a bad suggestion. “Let me worry about that, okay? If Mohinder decides it’s bad enough, then we’ll decide who to call.”

“I’m not a kid, you know. I can offer suggestions.” Molly was petulant, hands tugging at the hem of her shirt while she tried to keep her bottom lip from quivering. “I can help.”

“Hey, come here, you,” Matt stood up and opened his arms and Molly ducked in for a hug. “Easy now. It’s a really good idea, but we don’t want to jump the gun. This guy could be nobody, or he could be somebody, or he could be somebody who doesn’t actually want to do something bad. I know you want to jump up and do something, but we’ve got to sit still for a little while, okay?”

“I know,” it was muffled against the front of Matt’s shirt, but he heard the aggravation. “I don’t have to like it.”

“No, you don’t. You just have to deal.” 

“Fine.” She pulled away, pushing her hair off her face and looking up at Matt. “But he better hurry.”

Matt kissed the top of her head. “I’ll go check. Why don’t you order the pizza we talked about?”

“’Kay.” She turned to find the take out menus, and Matt breathed in a little shakily.

_One crisis averted._ He turned on his heel and crossed the apartment to Mohinder’s office. Over the years it’d gone from a scattering of papers and a map to a fully organized set-up complete with a double-wide desk and filing cabinets. When Matt walked in, Mohinder was bent over the desk, glasses about to slip off his nose, intent on whatever was in front of him.

“Anything?” Matt asked quietly, not wanting to startle him.

“I have a few mentions. Nothing concrete. Just the name, Charles Xavier, and an address in Salem Center. I checked the address, and it comes back as the school Ms. Timpora mentioned.”

Matt leaned over Mohinder, one hand at Mohinder’s waist, to read over his shoulder. “Please don’t tell me we just ruined Molly’s chance at some fancy, all expenses paid private school.”

“I don’t know for certain. I can’t find a lot of details. My father appeared to be just getting into contact with Charles Xavier before he died. What information I have is scant, although he has Xavier marked as someone with the gene.”

“So he’s one of us.”

“Yes, but we know that doesn’t mean much.” Mohinder straightened and gave a stretch, smiling when Matt pressed a hand to the small of his back. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“How’s Molly?”

“She would like to fix things as swiftly as possible, and she’s ordering pizza.”

Mohinder groaned. “It’s going to be covered in four layers of cheese. I’ll have a heart attack just looking at it.”

“She’ll have a heart attack if you don’t have something to tell her.”

“And what can I tell her? We’ve got nothing that proves anything.”

Matt considered that, looking down at the notes that Mohinder had lined up on the desk. “What about the school? Does it have a name?”

“Xavier Institute for Higher Learning, as far as I can tell. It’s accredited as well and what little information I found on it was positive. It’s apparently an invitation-only school, but I can’t even find pictures of the campus.”

“That’s not a good sign.”

“No, I suppose not.” Mohinder sighed and took off his reading glasses, tucking them into his shirt pocket. “I thought we were done with all this. I had hoped, at least, that we wouldn’t have to scour for information because of some unknown person suddenly showing up out of the mist knowing who you are and what you can do.”

Matt pressed between Mohinder’s shoulder blades with the palm of his hand. “I thought we were too, but I guess…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish. Not wanting to wonder if they’d have to do as some of the others had done and disappear from everywhere, go hide somewhere no one would think to look. Kansas, maybe, given its complete lack of interesting features. Maybe California somewhere, far away from the Bennets or whatever they were calling themselves nowadays.

“Stop planning,” Mohinder said softly. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re trying to put together an escape.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“At least let me decide if we should be.”

Matt shook his head and tried to smile. “God, sorry, I just…”

“I know.” 

“Molly-“

“I know,” Mohinder repeated, putting a bit more stress on the words. “But where can we go if we have to run? What other place is there that won’t look twice at two men with a daughter setting up house?”

“There are places,” but Matt didn’t really believe it, and he knew Mohinder could tell. “Or maybe we should wait until you decide we need to do something.”

“I think that’s best, yes.”

“You don’t have to be smug about it.”

Mohinder smiled a little, some of the tension easing away. “I don’t have to be, but I certainly will be.”

Matt opened his mouth to respond, but there was a knock on the office door, and Molly stuck her head in. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” Mohinder said while quickly gathering the papers and handing them to Matt to stick on top of the ‘to file’ pile. “Are you okay?”

“I wanted to know what you guys were doing.” 

“I was looking up Charles Xavier. He appears to share your genetic twist,” Mohinder said as Molly walked over and hugged him. “There’s nothing to fear.”

“Yet,” Molly said pointedly. “Something always comes up.”

“Molly-“ Matt said, only to be cut off.

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t, because it always does. Don’t pretend like I don’t know that.” She was angry and frustrated, the exhaustion she was feeling rolling off her in the way she slumped against Mohinder and half-heartedly glared at Matt. “You told me they were gone.”

“Molly, sweetheart, we don’t think they’re connected.”

_Really?_ Matt asked, slightly surprised.

_No, but as we have no conclusive proof, does it really hurt to tell her differently?_ “I don’t have enough information to say anything else, but I am fairly certain that he’s not with The Company.”

Matt and Molly both flinched a little at the name, Matt reaching up to rub at the left side of his neck, as if to check for any weird marks or scars. All this time later, and he was still wary, still scared, still not entirely certain he wasn’t being tracked without his knowledge. “We’ll figure this out, Molly.”

“When?”

Mohinder hugged her a bit more tightly. “Soon, I suppose. Nothing ever happens around here slowly. We can at least hang onto that.”

_Reassuring._

_Feel free to impart something better._

Molly pulled away from Mohinder and looked between he and Matt. “You guys are doing that head-talking thing again. You know it’s cheating.”

“It is not cheating,” Matt said, the conversation so old he responded on autopilot. “Parents have conversations about their kids without them knowing all the time.”

“Not in the same room as the kid.”

Mohinder smiled at her. “Point. We’ll try to refrain.”

“You always say that, you know. And you never do it.” Now she sounded angry. “It’s not fair. You can’t just think things to each other and expect me not to notice.”

“Molly,” Mohinder started, before she turned around and ran out of the room. A few seconds later, her bedroom door slammed, and Mohinder sighed heavily. “It appears the ice cream distraction has officially worn off.”

“Yeah.”

“What do we do?”

“With a scared and angry thirteen-year-old girl?” Matt shrugged. “I have no idea. Leave her alone?”

“Is that wise?”

“I don’t know.” 

“Fathers of the year, we aren’t.”

Matt sighed and didn’t bother agreeing. He helped Mohinder file his paperwork, and then they both wandered in the living room, settling into the couch, television murmuring in the background, while they tried to figure out exactly what to do. There was no sound from Molly’s room and just as Matt was willing to call it a loss and get up to check on her, there was a knock at the door followed by an overly-cheerful, “Pizza guy!” yell.

“I’ve got it,” Matt said as he jumped up from the couch. His wallet was on the table, his gun on top of the fridge, and he grabbed both as he made for the door.

“Is that really necessary?” Mohinder asked, exasperated.

“I have to pay the man,” Matt responded as he looked through the peephole. Man in his twenties with light brown hair, a gaudy yellow shirt, and a pizza box. He opened the door carefully, tucking the clip on his holster into the back of his jeans.

“Hey, man,” the pizza guy greeted him. “Nineteen even.”

“Sure,” Matt flipped through the bills in his wallet while trying to read the guy’s thoughts. He got a fairly terrible rendition of “Don’t Fear the Reaper” and not much else. Par for the course for most of the pizza guys. “Here you go. Keep the change.” 

“Thanks,” the guy tucked the money into his pocket and handed over the pizza. “Look, I…” he trailed off, looking both ways down the hallway, and Matt felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. He was ready to drop the pizza and grab for his gun when the man in the doorway finished his sentence. “I’m Bobby Drake. I do tricks.” His left hand turned completely to ice. “Professor Xavier asked me to talk to you.”

“Mohinder,” Matt said in the most even tone he could find, “it’s for you.”

Mohinder was at Matt’s back as quickly as possible, planning for anything, and finding, instead, a man with a hand made of ice. “I see.” He shouldered Matt out of the doorway and gestured the man inside. “Dr. Mohinder Suresh, and you are?”

“Bobby Drake. Professor Xavier asked me to come and talk to you.”

“By delivering a pizza?” Matt asked sarcastically, tossing said pizza onto the counter and flipping open the top.

“Would you have let me in the door if I’d just knocked? I paid the pizza guy for the pizza down at the front door.”

“And the shirt?”

Bobby Drake grinned like he didn’t have a care in the world. “All mine.”

Matt gave him a long, hard look. Molly? He asked Mohinder.

_She’ll want to hear this._ Mohinder didn’t look away from Bobby Drake when Matt headed towards Molly’s room. “Tell me, Bobby, what exactly is it that you do?”

“I freeze things. My body, or the things around me. I can pull moisture from the air and turn it into basically anything.” Bobby demonstrated by forming a perfectly symmetrical ice cube in his hand. “Here,” he held out his palm, and Mohinder plucked the cube from his hand.

“Amazing,” Mohinder breathed, turning the cube over and around. “And how did you learn to control your abilities?”

“Professor Xavier-“ Bobby cut off as Matt and Molly walked into the room. He smiled at Molly, then at Matt, slightly disturbed at the fairly dark look Matt was aiming his direction. “I’m harmless, really.”

“Compared to what?” Matt shot back, hand tight on Molly’s shoulder. 

“Look, I was just sent to talk to you. I’m gonna plead my case and leave.”

Molly shrugged out from under Matt’s hand and walked over to the kitchen counter. She grabbed a plate from the drainboard, picked a slice of pizza, and sat at the table so that she faced Bobby Drake head-on. “You’re with the other one, aren’t you?” 

Bobby grinned again, “Bald guy, wheelchair?”

“Yeah.”

“Then, yes, I’m with him.”

“Why’d you come here?”

“Well, you guys ran off from the school.”

Molly took a bite of her pizza and chewed thoughtfully. Mohinder watched her and turned towards Matt to hide his smile. _She’s sizing him up._

_So?_ Matt’s voice was tense. His eyes hadn’t left Bobby Drake.

_She certainly didn’t learn that trick from me._ Mohinder handed Matt a plate with two slices of pizza. _If she wants to talk, let her talk. We can at least hear what he has to say._

_He could be wired for sound._

_So frisk him._ The way Mohinder thought ‘frisk’ made Matt’s toes curl in his socks.

_Don’t try to distract me right now._ Matt moved away from Mohinder and sat next to Bobby Drake. Bobby was in the middle of explaining about the Xavier school, and Matt held up a hand to pause his description. “I have questions.”

Bobby nodded, perfectly pleasant. “Sure. Shoot.”

Matt decided not to point out just how favorable an idea he was willing to find that instruction. “Who is this Xavier guy?”

“He’s a mutant, like you guys,” Bobby waved a hand to include Matt and Molly. His raised eyebrow in Mohinder’s direction was met with a small shake of Mohinder’s head. “So, like you and Molly. He’s a telepath, and he started the school.”

“And the point of the school?”

“To teach mutants to use their powers safely, basically. I mean, we teach math and science and reading and all that stuff, but there’s also a full curriculum for kids to learn about their powers and how to control them and how to refine them.”

“You’re speaking as though you’ve been around for years,” Mohinder interrupted, sitting next to Molly and leaning into the table. 

Bobby squinted, thinking, “The school’s been around for over a decade, give or take the occasional rebuilding.”

“Rebuilding?”

Bobby grinned at Matt. Matt fought down the urge to punch him in the mouth. “We’ve had some…issues. They’ve died down considerably. You mind if I grab a slice of pizza?”

“I’ll get it,” Molly said before Matt or Mohinder could say anything. She presented it to Bobby like it was some sort of prized jewel, and Matt wanted to throttle the guy that much more. 

“Thank you,” Bobby said, giving Molly a grin. He put his attention back on Matt and Mohinder as he took a bite of pizza. “Thanks. I’m starving. Today’s just been,” he made a spiraling motion with his left hand. “You know?”

“No, I don’t,” Matt said tersely. “What I know is that I got a call that my daughter had been in a fight, and five minutes after I showed up, some strange man was out in the hallway freaking her out. And now here I am at my kitchen table while some _ambassador_ for said strange guy eats my pizza and tells me that it’s been a,” Matt made the same spiraling motion Bobby had just executed, “kind of day.”

Bobby blinked. “You really are a cop, huh?” He wiped his fingers on the napkin Molly had given him and seemed to consider what to say next. “Look, Detective Parkman, it’s like this: The professor can help Molly and you learn to really control your powers. He can help you refine them. Molly can go to school at the Xavier school, which, by the way, pretty much guarantees Ivy League, and Dr. Suresh can spend his days blowing up things in our medical lab. That’s basically what I was sent to tell you, and if you want me to get out, I’ll get out.”

“I have a question,” Mohinder said before Matt could quite cheerfully drag out Bobby Drake by the scruff of his neck. “You said the Xavier school has been around for a decade. Believe me when I say I know ways to find information, and I could find nothing past less information that one would print on a business card. Tell me, Mr. Drake, what has the Xavier school been so busy doing for ten years that it has no information available for the genuinely interested?”

_I love you._

Mohinder gave Matt a quirk of a smile. _I thought you might._

Bobby Drake, for his credit, was only looking a touch nervous about the question. “That’s where things get a bit complicated.” He looked around the table and decided that out of the three of them, Molly was looking at him the most suspiciously. “You have to understand that powers have a huge range-“

“We know,” Matt interrupted, hoping to cut through a book’s worth of explanation. “Trust us on this. Get to the point.”

“There was a woman by the name of Wanda who could alter reality by skewing probability and she, well, she went nuts and things got bad, and by the time she was done, most of the mutants in the world didn’t have powers. Some of them even forgot that they’d had them.”

“When was this?” Mohinder asked quietly.

“2006, when it was all said and done.”

There was a long, painful pause in the room. Mohinder broke it first, his voice laced with knowing suspicion. “What changed in the world by the time she was done?”

“I think you call it The Company.” Bobby Drake looked ready to flee for his life. “History adjusted itself so that The Company had been around for years. So much had changed within the timeline that The Company didn’t even come to the Professor’s attention until…” Bobby looked down at the tabletop and then straight at Matt. “It was you. When The Company grabbed you, it pinged the Professor, so to speak. Before we could track you, though, you were back-“

“Stop,” Matt ordered, voice low. “I know where I was. We all know where I was. What I want to know is how the hell anything this Wanda did is so damned important now.”

“Yeah, that.” Bobby scrunched up his face a little then shook his head. “Look, Detective Parkman, that’s not a part of this I can really explain. There’s this whole layer of Wanda’s crazy that I don’t quite get. You need to ask someone who isn’t me.”

“We need to ask the professor,” Mohinder said.

“Yeah.”

“So this was, what? A ploy to get us interested?” Matt stood up from the table, wary and uncomfortable.

“Yes and no, but probably mostly yes.” Bobby stood as well, inching towards the door in self-preservation. “Look, the professor sent me to talk to you because he needed somebody who wouldn’t freak you out. I didn’t get a dossier or anything. I was just told to tell you what I know. What I know is that you and Molly have powers, and the professor can help you work on them, and that it’s possible, if Wanda hadn’t bought out batshit on special, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation, but that’s all I know.” Bobby reached into his pocket, not missing the way Matt flinched at the movement, and withdrew a card. “Here. That’s the number for the school and the address and directions are on the back. My only goal was to leave it with you, so take it, and I’ll get out of here.”

Mohinder stood up, putting himself between Matt and Bobby, and took the card. “I think it’s best that you leave.”

“Yeah,” and Bobby was gone, door closing softly behind him and his footsteps fading away down the hall.

Mohinder threw the bolt and turned away from the door. Molly was still, eyes on Matt, hands flat on the tabletop. Matt was still standing, height and bulk mingling with the sharp line of his shoulders and the knobbiness of his fists to make him look much more dangerous and frightening than Mohinder had seen in awhile. “Molly,” he spoke softly, eyes on Matt, “go to your room for a bit.”

“’Kay.” She was up from the table like a jackrabbit, scurrying to her room without question because she’d only seen Matt so angry a few times before, and it never ended well at all.

“Matt,” Mohinder said once he heard Molly’s door latch, “I need you to calm down.”

“He-“

“He’s gone, Matt.”

“We don’t know who these people are. We don’t know where they came from. We don’t know what they want, and then they come in and…” Matt shook his head hard, unclenched his jaw and licked his lips. “Can someone do that? Alter reality?”

Mohinder walked to the kitchen, put on the kettle, and pulled two mugs from the cupboard. He laid out tea and spoons and pulled the honey from a different cupboard and waited for the water to boil before finally answering Matt. “Candice convinced people of entire rooms around them, according to Niki and Micah, and Hiro,” Mohinder paused to hand Matt his cup and then sat at the table. He was relieved to see Matt take his cue and sit as well. “Hiro,” he repeated, “Hiro’s entire power revolves around the idea of time-shift and reality bending.” Mohinder sipped his tea, weighing his next words. “And there was your father.”

The room was absolutely still for close to a minute, the only sounds coming from in off the street. Matt stared into his mug and watched his tea darken, forced himself to stay calm at the mention of his father. “My father created illusions. Candice created illusions. I’m asking about really and truly altering reality.”

“What Candice and your father did was alter reality. I don’t know the scope of this Wanda. I have no idea how her powers work, but as there was no mention of time travel, it rules out some variation on Hiro’s power.”

“So…” Matt stood up and did a quick ten steps from the kitchen and back to the table. “What you’re saying is that there’s a chance that whatever this Wanda person did, it could be somehow related to what my father was able to do.”

“Possibly.”

“And since I have his power, it means I could do it, too.”

“That I don’t know. You have the same power as he did, but I can’t say how it’s related to what Wanda did without knowing much more about it.” Mohinder stood and walked over to Matt, who had leaned against the counter and crossed his arms, tea mug resting on one elbow. He touched Matt’s arm, felt a tremor, and squeezed lightly. “What are you thinking?”

“He said that if Wanda hadn’t done what she did, we may not have our powers. I’m just…considering what that could have meant.”

Mohinder stepped back a little, considering as well. He hadn’t thought about that part of the conversation. “I…” Mohinder trailed off, contemplative. His father could still be alive. Perhaps Shanti as well. He’d still be in India teaching, most likely, and Matt and Molly-

_I don’t think I’d be with Janice._

_I hate it when you do that._

_You were practically screaming it at me._ Matt shook his head and put down his tea. He reached out and snagged the front of Mohinder’s shirt, reeling him in. “Janice was cheating on me before my powers showed up. Even without the mind-reading I’m sure we would have imploded eventually. I would have ended up somewhere. Maybe not right here and right now, but definitely somewhere that wasn’t Janice.”

Mohinder couldn’t speak. The affection in Matt’s eyes was making it very clear that he was being an idiot. _I don’t want to think that we’re here now because of some over-large bout of crazy._

_Hell, we got to the here and now because of an almost equal amount of crazy._

There was really no way to disagree with that. Mohinder leaned into Matt and stayed there, letting his thoughts wander over everything that might have been true had Bobby Drake’s acquaintance not lost control. “Molly might still have her parents.” He said it softly, into the shoulder of Matt’s shirt.

“Molly’s got parents,” Matt countered, pulling back to see Mohinder’s face. “And she’ll tell you the same.”

Molly, for her part, was listening to the whole conversation from her slightly ajar bedroom door. After she hadn’t heard anything get thrown or any yelling, she’d figured it was safe to check on the situation. She hadn’t expected to hear anything except Mohinder talking to Matt in that really soft voice he used when Molly had nightmares, or when he was dealing with the lab mice at the university. She wasn’t sure what to think about the idea that she could have grown-up with her first parents. The apartment was home. This room was hers. Those were her dads in the kitchen. She didn’t want to think of where she would have been if she hadn’t been here. It wasn’t that she didn’t miss her first parents; it was just that she had parents, so she didn’t think about the ones that were gone all that much.

But what if?

She opened the door to her room enough to slip out, and she made her way into the kitchen. Matt and Mohinder were against the kitchen counter hugging each other, and Molly tapped her foot to get them to look at her. “I think we should go,” she said in the sternest voice she had.

“And why’s that?” Matt looked a lot less angry, but Molly could tell he was still kind of ticked. He never quite looked her in the face when he was still mad.

“Because,” and she paused to consider the reasons she could use. After a moment, she decided for honesty. “Because I heard you two talking, and I want to know what it all means too.”

“Molly, these could be dangerous people.”

Molly put her hands on her hips and gave Matt a look that clearly read, “you’re being an idiot”. “Since when did you or Mohinder ever get too scared to do something?”

Matt pressed his lips together while Mohinder just grinned. “It appears we’ve been a terrible influence,” Mohinder said.

“Shut up.” Matt let go of Mohinder and squared off with Molly. “Mohinder and I can go out and do stupid things because we’re adults. You don’t get to have that privilege yet.”

“Why not? I’m thirteen.”

“And that’s exactly why not.”

Molly threw a hopeful glance to Mohinder. “If they know something about my powers, I have a right to go.”

Mohinder looked between Matt and Molly, brain whirring for a compromise. “We can’t do anything,” he said slowly, “until we have made arrangements to be gone for a least a few days. You,” he pointed to Molly, “have three weeks until school gets out for the summer. You,” he pointed to Matt, “have a court appearance next week,” and I,” Mohinder pointed to himself just to make Molly grin, “have to write and proctor and grade my students’ finals. We can’t do anything for at least a month. After that, we’ll discuss it again.”

“But-“

“One month, Molly,” Mohinder said, the tone of his voice making it clear there would be no arguments. “After that, you can argue your case as much as you want.”

“Fine.” She crossed her arms and looked at both of them skeptically. “I’m finishing my dinner in my room.” She grabbed her pizza plate, an extra slice, and went back to her room. She walked carefully, as if trying to appear very dignified, and Matt and Mohinder couldn’t help but shake their heads at her retreating back.

_How many more years of this do we have?_

_Six, if she grows out of it by her 20th birthday._

Matt shook his head. “I need a beer.”

*

“I do not believe you’ve come with good news.”

Bobby Drake settled himself into the chair across from the professor and shook his head. “I didn’t get physically tossed, but I think it could have headed that way. I may have fucked up.”

“Language.”

“Sorry, Professor. I just, I tried to explain Wanda, and I think I botched it.”

Professor Xavier reached over and put a hand on Bobby’s shoulder. “They’ll come or they won’t. We’ve done what we can.”

“Yeah, I know, but still, I wonder about them, you know?”

“You always did ask the most questions.” Xavier smiled. “Which one has you thinking this time?”

“Was it a fluke, what happened to them? I mean, from what you told me, Parkman didn’t have any ability until a few years ago, and he’s way beyond puberty.”

“I have only theories, Robert, and even the most well-tested and reviewed theories come under fire.”

Bobby grinned a little. “So shut up and roll with it for now?”

“If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.”


	2. Chapter 2

Molly’s room was fairly typical of a thirteen-year-old girl. She had books and a stereo, her bed, a dresser, a mirror, and a closet that was slowly working its way to overstuffed. There were posters and books and on the wall opposite her bed, a calendar with pictures of horses for each month. It was Matt’s idea of a joke. She’d said she wanted a pony or riding lessons, and so he’d gotten her, technically, twelve ponies, and tucked between June and July was a certificate for twelve weeks of riding lessons. 

The calendar was on June, and the thirteenth had been circled in blue marker. All the previous days had been marked out with precise Xs, and Molly eyed the calendar one last time before walking into the living room, where Matt and Mohinder were sitting next to each other on the couch and reading. “It’s been a month,” she said for her opener.

Matt and Mohinder both looked up. Matt closing his book and resting it on his knee, Mohinder merely marking his place with a finger. “It has,” Mohinder said, peering at her over his glasses. “Do you want to talk about it now?”

“Yes,” she said, exasperated with the both of them. “You said we could.”

“And I had no plans to back out of my agreement,” Mohinder responded, warning in his tone.

Molly lowered herself to the floor, resting her arms on the coffee table. “Are we going?”

Mohinder looked at Matt. “Well?”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “And why is this my choice?”

“Because I want to go, and Molly wants to go, and neither of us are sure about you.”

Matt’s eyebrows went a little higher. “Have you two been discussing me?” There was a moment of awkward silence. “That’s a yes.” He looked at Molly. “You do realize that when you tell us it’s rude to talk about you when you’re not around-“

“Yeah, I know,” Molly rolled her eyes, “but what _else_ did you think we’d be talking about when you’re not here?”

Matt had to concede the point. He and Mohinder had certainly discussed it when Molly was out of the apartment. “Well, I’m still not sure.”

“Why not?”

“Because we still can’t find anything about these guys. I’ve looked. Mohinder’s looked. We’ve had some other people look, and no one can come up with anything concrete.”

Molly threw up her hands. “So what? Maybe it’s that thing with that chick. Maybe it did something to change how they’re perceived or something.”

Mohinder grinned, hiding it by tucking his chin. “Eloquently stated, Molly.”

“Oh, come on, you know what I mean.” She drummed her fingers on the table top. “Why can’t we go? I’ve been out of school for a week, and all I’ve been thinking about is going. Please?” She stretched the ‘e’ slightly, sounding very much her former nine-year-old self.

Matt sighed and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I’m curious too, kid, but you’ve got to remember the danger-“

“I am so sick and tired of danger!” Molly yelled, jumping to her feet. “It’s always been danger! Don’t stand out too much, Molly, it’s dangerous! Don’t bring attention to yourself, it’s dangerous! Don’t talk to anyone at the doctor’s office, it’s dangerous!”

“Well, it _is_!” Matt yelled back, also jumping to his feet. “Do you know how close we came to losing you? Do you have any idea how close we came to being dead? You’re not the only one with nightmares, young lady!”

“ _Stop!_ ” Mohinder’s shout caused them both to freeze and look at him in surprise. “Either we discuss this like rational people, or we don’t discuss it at all. So, for the moment, you’re both going to shut up, and I’m going to talk. Now sit.” They sat. Mohinder maneuvered around the coffee table and took a moment to gather his thoughts. 

“There’s plenty of reason to be concerned, the lack of information is only part of the problem. We also have a lack of communication. It seems that if these people were sent to us, they’d make more of an attempt to contact us. Conversely, they could be trying to show their sincerity by leaving us be. However, we must also consider what it means that a group of people on whom we have no information past a name and an address could find us in the first place. Ms. Erickson was the one to contact them, of that we’ve all agreed, but there’s still the matter of not knowing how much they know.”

“Congratulations,” Matt said, fully sarcastic, “you’ve argued and ruined your own point.”

“I’m not finished yet,” Mohinder responded, a snap in his words. “Has either of you even considered the concept of a day trip? It’s only an hour out to Salem Center. We could drive out on a Saturday, get some sort of tour, and be back in the city by the evening.”

“Unless they kidnap us, stick tracking devices into our necks, and then follow us around with plans to lock us in cages.”

“Thank you, Matt, you’re so very helpful.”

Matt breathed hard from his nose. “You know that’s a chance. The song and dance about this altering of reality to explain The Company? Please. Are you really that naïve? It’s like something out of a comic book.”

“Says the telepath,” Mohinder pointed out. Molly smirked.

Matt put his head in his hands. “For the record, you’re both basically screaming at me in my head, and I know I’m going to get outvoted, so let’s just agree to the day trip before I get a migraine, okay?”

“Thank you!” Molly jumped up, ran around the coffee table, and threw her arms around Matt’s neck. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Matt hugged her back while glaring at Mohinder. “And don’t think we haven’t noticed the time. Start getting ready for bed. Mohinder will call them tomorrow to schedule something.”

“Okay! I’m going!” She practically bounded out of the room, her footsteps just adding to Matt’s headache.

“Thank you,” Mohinder said more quietly, walking over to rub his fingers against Matt’s temples. “Even if it was under duress.”

Matt rested his head against Mohinder’s stomach and tried to breathe evenly. “If we’re kidnapped and never seen again, I’m blaming you.”

“Understood.”

“And I’m taking my gun.”

Mohinder bent and kissed Matt on the top of the head. “I wouldn’t expect less. Lean back, I’ll fetch an aspirin.”

Matt reclined on the couch, one arm over his eyes, and listened to Mohinder move towards the bathroom. _This could be so damned dangerous._ He weighed his options on calling in the calvary and figured Bennet would call him an idiot and hang up the phone. One of the Petrellis might tag along, but Matt wasn’t even sure where they were anymore. They’d left New York after the last blow out, and the last Matt had heard, they were somewhere in Canada or Colorado or somewhere else with a ‘C’.

“Here,” Mohinder’s voice was a whisper as he pressed two tablets into Matt’s hand. “Lift up so you don’t spill the water.” 

Matt lifted his head just enough to take a few sips and then reclined again. “You two, when you’re determined, really know how to knock my head around.”

“It’s unintentional, I assure you.” Mohinder settled next to Matt’s knees and scratched Matt’s stomach through his shirt. “Is this the same headache from yesterday?”

“This is the same headache from last week. I’m having trouble filtering again.”

“Did you-“

“I tried the box idea, and I tried picturing walls, and I tried just plain blocking everything, but it’s getting through. I’m not sure what’s going on.”

“Perhaps, when I call to make the appointment for the visit, I could see if someone at the school could offer some assistance. There could be a trick we haven’t thought about.”

Matt raised his arm and gave Mohinder a look. “You can’t seriously be shorting yourself that much. You’ve thought of everything.”

“How do I know? I’ve never had anyone with whom I can compare notes.” 

“C’mere,” Matt grabbed Mohinder’s arm and pulled him down to press against his side. “You would have gone on your own, wouldn’t you?”

Mohinder looked down, slightly embarrassed. “Perhaps.”

“I know how important it is for you to get information, but I can’t help but worry. Every time we’ve tried to trust someone like this, it’s always ended badly.”

“I know.” Mohinder put his head on Matt’s shoulder, an arm going around Matt’s middle. “But you’ve already agreed, and if you back out on Molly you may well end up with a sulky thirteen-year-old who won’t speak to you for days.”

Matt groaned. “I already said I’d go. Don’t make me regret it.”

“I’ll call them first thing tomorrow.”

“Great.”

Mohinder pressed his face into Matt’s shoulder and rolled his forehead back and forth. “Now you’re giving me a headache. If you could fake some enthusiasm during the tour, I’ll make it worth your while.”

“I expect payment in advance.” Matt grinned when Mohinder leaned in and kissed him on the mouth.

“Done.”

*

Staff meetings at the Xavier School were run by Scott Summers, head of faculty and ruling hand at the head of the conference table. He attempted, every week, to run the meeting as efficiently as possible, start to finish in less than an hour. This particular week, Bobby was trying to beat Warren in a game of Twinkie-stuffing with an overly-delighted Hank McCoy keeping count for both sides.

“Guys,” Scott said, ignoring how Jean was trying not to laugh beside him. “We have a meeting to run.”

Bobby said something that couldn’t be deciphered around the six or seven Twinkies he had shoved in his mouth. Hank, smiling delightedly, translated his mumblings as, “All the kids are gone. We can take five.”

“Looks like Warren’s on eight,” Logan said from the end of the table. He was tipping back his chair, boots on the table, looking as amused as he got, which was to say he had raised his eyebrows half an inch.

“Should we be encouraging this?” Kurt asked, tail tapping against the edge of the table.

“That should probably be Scott’s line,” Jean said, finally giving in and laughing as Warren tried not to sneeze while also shoving Twinkie number nine in his mouth.

“Ow.”

Scott shook his head and tapped his pen on his notepad. “And now that Warren’s demonstrated the laws of physics, let’s get started." He scanned the notes he’d made and decided to start in the middle. “We’re having visitors next weekend. Three people, two men and a teenage girl. Bobby, you’ve got more on that?”

Bobby wiped excess Twinkie foam from the side of his mouth and cleared his throat. “It’s Matt Parkman, Mohinder Suresh, and Molly Walker. The professor says that she’s clairvoyant and Parkman’s a telepath.”

“What about the third?” From Logan, eyebrows coming together as he concentrated.

“Suresh? No power according to him or the professor. He’s the son of the Dr. Suresh who came up with the gene theory that people are starting to pony around.”

“Post-M?” From Hank.

“Yeah. The professor says that they’re with that whole group that started showing up in 2006.”

“The New Genetics?” Hank asked, eyes widening. “You failed to mention this when you told me of your trip last month.”

Bobby shrugged. “I didn’t think about it. I mean, mutant is mutant, right? Who cares when they show up?”

Jean smiled. “A excellent way to look at it, I think. When are they showing up?”

“Saturday morning at eleven. I’m giving them the tour, and Suresh has asked to see the labs. Hank?”

“It would be a pleasure, if he is anything like his late father, I am sure I will find the conversation fascinating.”

“You find conversation about dirt fascinating,” Warren pointed out.

“ _Das Mädchen_ ,” Kurt asked, “How long has she had her powers?”

“Since she was eight, the professor said. He got a bit of a reading on her before she, well, freaked.”

“Freaked?” 

Bobby grinned a little at Logan. “Apparently screamed her head off. _Inside_ her head.”

“Got Parkman’s attention, then?”

“Yeah.”

Logan smirked. “This should be interesting.”

“So, Saturday, eleven in the morning,” Scott pulled the conversation back to the proper topic. “Please be washed up, downstairs, and _dressed_ by the time they arrive.”

“One time,” Kurt muttered with a flick of his tail, “I teleport for a fresh towel, and someone’s giving a tour of the linen closet.”

“Hey, I was just as surprised as you,” Warren shot back, Twinkie filling still edging his mouth. “And they were big contributors. The wife especially after she saw you.”

“And now we’re changing the subject,” Scott ended the conversation with a wave of his hand. “I’ve got other things to talk about then which parts of Kurt shrivel up the most in the shower.”

“ _Alles im Anteil_ ,” Kurt replied, smile getting bigger.

“I did not need to know that,” Hank said with a shake of his head.

“Moving _on_ ,” Scott ordered. “Let’s talk vacation plans.”

*

The drive out of the city and into Salem Center had been a quiet one. The drive up the driveway to the Xavier School was quiet until Molly spotted the building and gave the kind of squeal Mohinder was fairly certain she’d learned off MTV.

“That place is huge!” She jumped up and down in her seat. “This is gonna be great!”

Mohinder caught the way Matt clenched his jaw as they rounded a curve and spotted a tall, black wrought iron fence that blocked the entrance courtyard to the school. “It looks like any other boarding school.”

_Really?_

_Yes. It’s not an uncommon practice to have a way to screen visitors._

Matt pulled even with the gate and rolled down his window to reach the intercom button marked ‘push to talk’. There was a crackle, and then a pleasant female voice.

“May I help you?”

“Matt Parkman, Mohinder Suresh, and Molly Walker.”

“We’ve been expecting you. Welcome to the Xavier Institute.” 

There was a buzz, and the gate opened. Matt pulled into the courtyard and cut the engine, all three of them stepping out of the car to stretch and look around. Matt had to admit, if only to himself, that they really were looking at an impressive building. He didn’t have to like it, though.

“You look as though you’ve swallowed bad milk,” Mohinder murmured so that Molly, ten feet away and looking to the various paths that arched off the courtyard couldn’t hear him.

“I’m not sure that I haven’t.” 

The wide front doors of the school opened and Bobby Drake, this time in a mellow blue shirt, came bounding down the steps. “You made it! Excellent! Any trouble finding us?”

“No,” Matt answered curtly.

Bobby didn’t seem to notice the tone. “Excellent. I’ve got the tour route planned, but if you all need a few minutes to stretch or get something to drink or eat, we’re not on any sort of real schedule.”

“I wouldn’t mind something to drink,” Mohinder said.

“Great! We’ll start the tour in the kitchen then. Oh, hey, Molly!” Bobby grinned at Molly.

Molly grinned back, and Matt saw the blush that flushed her cheeks. _I don’t like this guy._

_You can’t stop Molly from having a crush._

_He’s in his twenties._

Mohinder reached over and grabbed Matt’s hand, running their fingers between one another. “Relax.”

“No.”

Mohinder made a frustrated noise. “We had an agreement, and I kept my end of it.”

That made Matt smile despite himself. “I said I’d _try_ ,” he argued, knowing he’d already lost.

“If not to keep me from throttling you, then so Molly doesn’t get nervous.”

“I’ll try.”

“You’re _trying_.”

Matt relaxed for the first time since getting up that morning. “That too.”

They had, in the course of the conversation, followed Bobby Drake from the front courtyard, through an impressive living room, and then into the kitchen. It was an almost perfectly square room with green tile and more chrome than Matt had ever seen in one place before.

“We’ve got soda, water, tea, milk, juice, coffee, and I can always make a smoothie,” Bobby opened the fridge and waved a hand at the selection. “Help yourself.”

Molly took a soda, Matt and Mohinder took coffee and they positioned themselves in a small arch around the edge of the butcherblock counter while Bobby fixed them sandwiches and tracked down an unopened bag of potato chips. “I guess we can always start the tour here,” he said, and waved a hand like a spokesmodel. “This is actually the staff kitchen. We have a dining room for the students, and all the food that’s served there comes from a second kitchen right behind it. Meals are served on actual plates with actual silverware, and all four food groups are present. This is just the spot where all the adults can have a midnight snack. We do, of course, have people on dining duty during meal times. The last time we didn’t, there was a food fight. I may have caused it.”

“What’s the age range for students here?” Matt had noticed, on the walk to the kitchen, a stack of textbooks on an end table, ranging from Pre-Algebra up to Advanced Calculus.

“Right now our youngest student is twelve and our oldest is eighteen. Occasionally, we get kids whose powers manifest before they hit puberty, but the mass majority are teenagers.”

“I got my powers at eight,” Molly said, swallowing a bite of her sandwich. “Does that mean anything?”

Bobby shrugged, “Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t. We’ve had people who got their powers at seven or eight be incredibly powerful, and we’ve gotten people who’ve gotten their powers at seven or eight be fairly average. It varies.”

“Any theories as to why?” 

“That’s a Hank question, Dr. Suresh. I was going to introduce you to him after the tour. He’s interested in meeting you.”

“Hank?” Matt asked. “Who’s Hank?”

“Dr. Hank McCoy. He’s our medical doctor, and he also does a lot of our genetics research. His lab’s in the basement.”

“Genetics research?” Mohinder’s eyes had brightened at the term. “Do you have any details?”

“Nothing that I fully understand. Like I said, it’s a Hank thing. Me, I’m an accountant.”

“You are not,” from Matt, looking genuinely shocked.

Bobby laughed. “Yeah, I know, total kick right? I can turn myself to ice, and I make my living crunching numbers. Well, crunching numbers and teaching math.”

“You’re on staff here, then?”

“Yeah. It’s me, Scott Summers, Jean Gray, Kurt Wagner,” he said the ‘W’ like a ‘V’, “Hank McCoy, Warren Worthington, and Logan.”

“Logan what?” Matt was repeating the names in his head, wondering how quickly he could order background checks.

“Just Logan.” The door to the kitchen opened, and Bobby glanced over, his face lighting up. “We were just talking about you! Detective Parkman, Dr. Suresh, Molly, this is Hank McCoy.”

“A pleasure,” Hank said with a polite smile. “You’ll have to forgive my appearance, I was merely coming in for a brief lunch before returning to the lab.”

Matt and Mohinder, despite their best efforts, were both on the verge of gaping. Molly, to her credit, simply smiled and said, “I drew something that looked a lot like you once.”

Hank’s smile went from polite to delighted, and he held out his arms to allow for a full effect. He was wearing a lab coat, slightly shabby, and slacks that had seen better days. He was wearing a purple shirt, and his hair was combed back neatly from his forehead. He was also covered in blue fur. It looked sleek and neatly brushed but could in no way be confused with hair. “As I understand it, Miss Walker, you’re a clairvoyant. You could very well have drawn me.”

Molly’s sudden blinding smile made a little of Matt’s headache go away. This whole trip was worth it, he decided, if Molly could look that happy. He glanced over and saw the blinding brilliance of one of Mohinder’s smiles and chose at that moment to throw up his metaphorical hands and try to actually enjoy himself. He could still remember names and locations and do any tracking he felt necessary once he got home. “How do you know about our powers?” He asked Hank, the question less suspicious than it would have been five minutes before.

“It is simply a matter of security, Detective Parkman. While we are obviously very pleased to have you visit, knowing which powers you have helps us better plan for possible issues.”

“Issues?” 

“There has been the occasional visit that has been-“

“He’s trying to say there have been explosions. Big explosions.” Bobby rolled his eyes. “It just would have taken him another six sentences.”

“Merely the end of the one which I was already speaking, Robert.”

Mohinder stepped forward, extending his hand. “Dr. McCoy, I understand you’re the geneticist around here.” When Hank should his hand, Mohinder realized he had claws. “Your mutation is…intriguing.”

“The part you see before you is merely a laboratory folly. My original mutation lies in my particular gymnastic abilities.”

“He reads upside-down,” Bobby translated for Matt, obviously comfortable leaving the doctors to start chatting amongst themselves. “And he does pretty good black flips and handstands.”

“I also have excellent shape in my pirouettes.” Hanks’s voice did not change from its polite, interested tone, but Matt caught the humor in his eyes.

_I think you’re all made the same,_ Matt sent to Mohinder. _Dry sense of humor, ridiculous hair-_

_I do not have ridiculous hair._

_Please._

Mohinder smiled at Hank. “Excuse me for a moment.” He threw a look over his shoulder to Matt. “If you’re done being snide, I think I’d like to see Dr. McCoy’s lab.”

“I would be thrilled to give you the grand tour, granted you’ve finished this one.”

“Go,” Matt said before Mohinder could look abashed. “You’d have ended up down there anyway.”

“Molly?”

Molly shook her head. “No, thank you.” The “boring” was written all over her face.

“I’ll find you when I’m done then.” Before Mohinder could walk off, Matt grabbed his arm and pressed a kiss to his mouth. _Jealous?_

_Nervous._

_I’ll be fine._

Matt tried not to think about the number of times Mohinder had said that before some truly terrible events. _Just, keep an eye out, okay?_

_I’ll call if I need you._

Feeling vaguely more comfortable, Matt let go of Mohinder’s arm and watched him walk away, already chatting amicably with Dr. McCoy. “We’ll be lucky if we can pry him away with a crowbar,” Matt told Molly in mock-seriousness.

“Don’t worry, we keep one down there to get Hank to-oh, crap.” Bobby ran out of the kitchen. “Hank! Food!”

“Oh, yes!” Hank’s voice was muffled by distance. “I had nearly forgotten.”

Bobby popped his head back into the kitchen. “The care and grooming of scientists, I should write a book.”

“I could help,” Matt said, a genuine smile going across his face. “Where to next?”

“Well, if you guys are done with lunch, we’ll kick off the tour properly. We’ve got the whole building plus the grounds to see.”

They’d made it back to the living room when there was a sudden crack, a puff of smoke, and Matt pushed Molly behind him, stance becoming defensive. The room smelled of sulfur, and when the smoke cleared, there was a man, a darker blue than Hank McCoy, and with a tail swishing behind him.

“Excellent entrance, Kurt,” Bobby said with a cough. “I think you’ve effectively scared our guests.”

“ _Fluch_ ,” Kurt muttered, shaking his head at himself. “ _Ich_ can never make a proper entrance _mit_ guests around.”

Bobby glanced at Matt and saw the way he was still standing. “Um, yeah, this is Kurt. He can teleport. And he’s got a tail.” The tail waved at Matt and Molly. “With the exception of the smell, he’s a very nice guy.”

“ _Mein_ apologies, _bitte_.” 

Matt gave him a hard once-over. He was tall and thin, the weirdness of the tail was balanced out by the dark blue of his skin and the fact that he only had three fingers on each hand, each roughly the size of two fingers put together. He had yellow eyes and sharp incisors, but he simply stood in place, tail swishing like a cat, and didn’t seem overtly dangerous. Matt finally stepped away from Molly. “You must be Wagner,” he pronounced the ‘W’ like a ‘V’ in the same manner Bobby had earlier. “Matt Parkman.” He held out his hand, cataloging the slight strangeness of shaking hands with a man with only three fingers. 

“ _Guten Tag_. Please call me Kurt.” He smiled at Molly. “I was told there were three of you coming today.”

“Hank’s got Dr. Suresh in the lab, I was just getting ready to show Molly and Detective Parkman-”

“Matt,” Matt interrupted. “You can call me Matt.”

“Sure,” Bobby said like it wasn’t a big deal, but Matt saw the happiness in his eyes. The guy couldn’t hide a thing, Matt thought. He wondered how he kept this whole operation under wraps. “Anyway, Kurt, I was headed towards the classrooms.”

“Then I will leave you to it,” and Kurt bowed his goodbye, tail flipping, before leaving in another cloud of smoke.

”God, that stuff smells terrible.”

“You get used to it.”

They saw the classrooms, the dormitory, and the swimming pool. At the edge of the pool was a man in swim trunks and a pair of red-lens sunglasses. He waved to Bobby and greeted Matt and Molly with a nod of his head. “Scott Summers, I’m the headmaster here.”

Matt shook his hand, “You’ve got a lot of space here,”

“It was a private residence originally, we’ve added a lot to it.” 

“How many students live here?”

“Roughly 50 to 100 at any given time. Sometimes a few more than that, sometimes a few less. During the last school year, we housed 63. There are still nine on campus now.”

Molly, who’d gotten rather bored during the tour, took notice at that. “Why are they here?”

“Sometimes we have students whose situation isn’t good for them. Some kids get kicked out. Some decide to leave. When they show up here, we work with the families, a social worker, and usually a lawyer to set up the best environment possible. In the end, we tend to have at least a handful of students who live here full-time.”

Matt watched Molly consider what Scott had said. Her sense of right and wrong could be totally black and white at times, and he had no idea how she’d react. “So, sometimes, parents suck,” she finally said.

Scott grinned; it was a small movement of his lips into an upwards position. “More or less. The students who stay on full-time spend the summer running around like anyone else. They’re in town today with Ms. Grey and Mr. Worthington doing some shopping.”

“What happens after they graduate?”

Scott shrugged, but it wasn’t a dismissal. “Anything. Usually, they go to college. Sometimes they just go out and get a job. Very occasionally, we have families who have come to terms with things and want to try and make amends.”

Matt watched Molly’s face and saw her close up. She was figuring things out, piecing them together, and Matt knew she’d be standoffish until she’d come to some sort of a decision. He bent over her, blocking her from Scott and Bobby. “You need some time?”

“Yeah.”

“There’s a great window seat on the first floor,” Bobby said quietly, obviously trying to be non-intrusive. “You can see the lake, and it’s pretty much a do not disturb zone. I’d be happy to show you to it.”

Molly looked at Matt with her eyebrows drawn together. _Will you be okay?_

_I’ll be fine._ Matt gave her a quick hug and sent her off with Bobby, watching them until they stepped back into the house. “She’s seen a lot,” he told Scott without turning to look at him, “but shitty parenting confuses her.”

“Obviously, she’s never experienced it.”

Matt turned around, surprised at how genuine Scott’s smile looked even when he couldn’t see his eyes. “So, what do you do?”

“Optic blasts.”

“Telepath.”

“And Molly?”

“Clairvoyant dreams, but I bet you already know all of this.”

Another smile, more of a smirk, really, “I do, but I find it helps to feign ignorance occasionally.”

Matt snorted and shook his head. “You people…”

“What?”

“Just…you’ve got a bunker here, and you’ve got a school on top of it, and you think feigning ignorance is going to cover the fact that you’re covering things?” Matt watched the way Scott’s eyebrows caused a furrow over his nose.

“What makes you think there’s anything under the school except dirt?”

“Because I’m a telepath, and Mohinder gave me a running commentary when he and Dr. McCoy went to the basement.” 

The furrow between Scott’s eyebrows got a little deeper. “What else do you know?”

“I know that Primatech Paper wasn’t just a paper factory. I know that they were a front for The Company, which if what Bobby tells me is true, was brought into existence by the reality-fucking of a woman associated with the people here.” Matt slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels, dropped his tone to something between conversational and threatening, “I think you can see my concern.”

Scott sighed harshly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Wanda is, or rather, was…there’s a lot of history there, a lot of good mixed in with a lot of bad, and it’s not something I can go into without needing to bang my head against a wall.” Scott dropped his hand and looked Matt straight in the eyes. “Do you have any recollection of mutants before your power manifested?”

Matt thought about it, eyes on Scott, as he considered what life had been like before the telepathy and The Company. Before Molly and Mohinder. “No,” he said after a silent two minutes. “Or, if I do, it’s not coming straight to mind.”

“Before Wanda lost control, people knew who we were. The X-Men were national news. Sometimes we were even heroes. Mutants were constantly discussed as either a threat to the world or the next evolutionary step. Wanda set up the world so that rather than being on the fringes of society, we were the leaders of the world. When it came crumbling down, she demanded no more mutants, and it worked, mostly.” Scott looked over the pool, and Matt read anger and resentment and disappointment in the line of his jaw and the clench of his hands. “Somehow a few of us were spared. We’ve tried to figure out why, and the popular theory is that she had some residual affection for us.”

“You don’t buy it.” Quiet and controlled, the way Matt got answers out of suspects in interrogation.

“She was out of her mind by the end of it. She thought – hell, I don’t know that she thought at all, actually. But it wasn’t affection that saved us. I think her power hit its limit, and it did all the damage it possibly could, and that’s how some of us survived. Her reach was only so large.” Scott looked at Matt again. “And then, once things started settling again, and we realized no one knew who we were anymore, this whole new batch of mutants suddenly shows up, and there we were, still reeling, and there you all were, just coming up.”

A question that had been nagging Matt since he’d seen Professor Xavier outside of the school office finally came to fruition in his head and with it came all the uneasiness he’d been feeling for the past month. “Why didn’t you approach us then? We were floundering out there, trying to keep New York City from exploding, trying to figure out how the hell this had happened to us, and you were here _the whole time_? You knew who we were, what we could do, and we never saw you, never heard from you. You know what caused us, and you just sat up here in your fancy house with your specially invited students and let us nearly kill ourselves?” Matt’s voice was raising, his hands clenching into fists. He was right up against Scott’s nose without even realizing it. “Who the _fuck_ do you think you are to tell us you’re so goddamned good for us and then tell me you _left us alone_?”

“You don’t understand,” Scott’s voice was low, even, and reminded Matt very much of his early associations with Bennet. Like nothing ever affected him, like everything would wash away with one good shower. It made Matt’s insides twist. It made him mad.

“I don’t understand? Which part? The reality altering part? The people feeling lost and confused part? The part where an eight-year-old girl had to have her parents brutally murdered in front of her face because you were all too goddamned _sad_ to help? What kind of useless heroes were you before all this?”

And that was precisely when Scott Summers punched Matt Parkman in the face.

*

Down in the basement lab, things were going a bit more smoothly. Hank had happily handed his files over to Mohinder, who had promptly settled onto a worn-out but fairly comfortable chair and started perusing the information. It was fascinating to see the strides Hank had made that Mohinder himself had only theorized. It helped, he supposed, to have a top-of-the-line lab at one’s disposal 24/7.

“When the world righted itself again, I found your father’s book on the counter,” Hank was saying as he poured them both a cup of tea. “I like to believe it was a gift from Wanda, a last attempt to apologize for what she had done.”

“About Wanda-“

“She was a good friend,” Hank interrupted, “but there was always an instability to her. She was quite fragile at her base.”

“I know the type,” Mohinder said, thinking of Peter Petrelli. “He seems to have overcome it, though.”

“Perhaps that was Wanda’s gift to herself.” Hank sat in another worn-out but comfortable chair and sipped his tea. “As were the rest of your new guard, possibly. I like to think that some part of her was still enough herself to try and stop the total decimation she attempted.”

“Decimation?” 

“You must understand that Wanda’s power was a power of suggestion, in a sense. When she wanted something, she simply had to concentrate on saying it. She wanted children, and she concentrated until she had them. She lost those dear boys, and like any mother who lifts a car off her child, she went beyond her limitations to try and save her sons. She was a grieving mother, Dr. Suresh, but she had the misfortune of having a powerfully destructive force in her hands when her grief was at its darkest.”

Mohinder thought of his own mother and wondered what she would have done with the same power on the day of Shanti’s death. He wondered what he or Matt would do given the same horrific circumstances. “And her boys?”

“Alive and well, both with their individual gifts. How they survived I’m not sure, but I believe it was Wanda’s last act as a mother, to have them in the world whether she was here or not. What mother worth her heart wouldn’t sacrifice herself for her children?” Hank watched Mohinder consider what had been said. “However, there is sacrificing yourself and then sacrificing others, and Wanda did more damage than good in the end, if only out of the livelihoods lost.”

“Livelihoods?” Mohinder looked up from his tea. “Were people terribly injured?”

“In a sense.” Hank breathed slowly, the list of names he knew by heart repeating over and over in his head. “Wanda said ‘no more mutants’, and that caused terrible pain for so many people. There are mutants who have no way to feel self-identity without their power; it’s defined them so long they know nothing else. There are a few mutants who can not survive without their powers. There are mutants who simply don’t want to survive without them. It was, much like Wanda’s power, highly psychological. There are days I can’t bring myself to consider the ramifications on some of my former colleagues.”

Mohinder considered the idea. He tried to imagine Matt without his telepathy, Molly without her dreams, all the people he’d met with abilities who had learned to thrive on them, even if there were negative effects in the end. Sylar, for every single flaw he had, had been completely sure of who he was. “I’ve had similar moments with some of the people I’ve met, as if who they are is completely wrapped around what they can do.”

“It is a sense of self most people do not get in their lives.”

“It is also dangerous. I’ve seen the death that comes with abusing one’s privilege.”

“As have I.”

They fell into silence then, comfortable while they sipped their tea and Mohinder looked over charts. Hank stood after a few minutes to check on an experiment and take notes on something in a petri dish. “Have there been any illnesses among the people you’ve met?” Hank asked quietly, the question loaded with hesitation.

Mohinder looked up from the charts, glasses slipping down his nose. “Illnesses?”

“There was, at one point, a virus that was killing off mutants.” Hank saw the way Mohinder’s shoulders stiffened. “If I could be so bold, Dr. Suresh, I would say that you are well aware of what I am speaking.”

“It…” Mohinder shook his head and stood up. He removed his glasses and placed them in his shirt pocket. “My father, in his personal notes, wrote about the illness and death of my sister. When I was first introduced to Molly, she was showing the same symptoms. I had antibodies in my blood which counteracted the virus. I was able to cure Molly. Eventually I had a set-up that allowed me to produce a cure for the virus as a whole. I haven’t…” Mohinder squinted at Hank, zeroing in on the way Hank’s fingers tapped lightly on the counter. “How do you know of it?”

“It was called the Legacy Virus. It was mutant-specific until a mutation caused it not to differentiate between mutants and non-mutants. It has been cured, but there was great cost.” Hank opened a drawer and pulled out a syringe. “I constantly fear news of a rebirth.”

“It was called the Shanti Virus, after my sister. We managed to contain it, but just barely.” Mohinder rolled up his sleeve without being asked, the thin skin on the inside of his elbow an open invitation. “I believe all the samples have been destroyed, but I fear a rebirth as well.” Mohinder watched Hank slip on a pair of gloves, his eyebrows rising in question when he saw they had space at the tips of the fingers for Hank’s claws.

“A gift from Robert. There was a point when lab work was impossible.” Hank tied a rubber hose around Mohinder’s arm above the elbow and removed the syringe from its packet. “Is there a chance that you would allow for Molly’s blood to be drawn?”

“No,” Mohinder said without having to think. “She’s spent enough time being prodded.”

“She was a guinea pig for The Company?”

“In a sense. She can sense other people with abilities. The Company was using her as a tracking device.”

“How old was she?”

“Eight.”

“Oh, dear,” Hank breathed as he slid the needle into Mohinder’s arm. “From what Bobby told me, and what the Professor has mentioned, she’s a very well-adjusted young woman.”

“She is amazingly resilient. I think that is Matt’s influence. I’m a bit too obsessive at times.”

“It makes good scientists,” Hank said with a smile. He removed the syringe from the needle, pulled the needle from Mohinder’s arm, and turned to place the vial in a rack. “If you’ll give me a moment, I can fetch you-“ Hank turned back towards Mohinder to find him on his knees, one hand clutching his head, the other trying to find purchase on the slick top of the lab counter. “Dr. Suresh?” Hank asked, moving forward carefully. “Dr. Suresh can you-“

“Matt’s screaming-“ Mohinder cut off, bit his lip, tried to dig his fingernails into the counter. “He’s in my head. Summers.”

Hank rushed to the nearest communicator and pushed the button labeled ‘Scott’. “Scott, are you with Detective. Parkman?”

“I am.” Scott’s voice was thin and controlled, but Hank heard the anger underneath. “Why?”

“Whatever you’ve done, or whatever he’s done, it has Dr. Suresh in agony. Ask him to desist.”

“Mohinder?” Matt’s voice came over the line, hard-edged and dangerous. “If you’ve touched him-“

“It’s you, you jackass,” from Scott. “Whatever you’re thinking, _stop_. You’re projecting hard enough to hurt him.”

There was a sudden, harsh gasp from behind him, and Hank glanced over to see Mohinder crumpled on the floor, rubbing his temples and trying desperately to regain his feet. “Thank you, Detective Parkman. Scott, if you’ll escort him down to the lab.”

“Sure.” There was a savage high-pitched squeal as Scott cut his communicator.

Hank shook his head at the strange turn of events and walked over to Mohinder again. “I do believe my dear leader and your Detective. Parkman have decided they do not get along.”

“I caught a bit of it.” Mohinder stumbled as he stood, grateful for Hank’s large arm around his waist. “Something about incompetence, some swearing. Something about Molly.”

“Is she in danger?”

“No, it was past-tense. It was,” Mohinder sagged into the chair Hank had maneuvered him towards. “Thank you, it wasn’t an urgent response. It was angry.”

“Scott can be somewhat polarizing under the wrong circumstances, and forgive my boldness, but I got the distinct impression Detective Parkman was not a fully willing participant in this trip.”

“He’s suspicious. We all are.” Mohinder tilted back his head and tried opening his eyes. He saw spots and closed them again. “But given Matt’s ability, his suspicions tend to be greater.”

“I would expect so,” Hank waited for Mohinder to crack open his eyes a second time before handing him a glass of water and four aspirin. “I have it on excellent authority that four extra-strength aspirin work quickly in this situation.”

“I’ve found the same to be true myself.” Mohinder took the pills, drank the water, and leaned his head against the cushions again. He didn’t open his eyes at the sound of the lab doors opening. He recognized Matt’s stride and smiled as Matt’s hands pressed against the sides of his head. “Hello.”

“Hi,” Matt walked around Mohinder’s chair and pressed his thumbs into Mohinder’s temples. “God, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be fine. Dr. McCoy had aspirin and water.”

“Still,” Matt leaned down and pressed his forehead against Mohinder’s, let the pulse he felt at Mohinder’s temples calm him down a little. “I just-“ Matt let his mind open gradually, pictured himself tiptoeing into Mohinder’s head, wary of the pain he might cause. _Does this hurt?_

_You sound like you’re whispering._

_So do you._

_Mohinder smiled. I just need a few minutes. Molly?_

_She’s with Bobby Drake._

_And you trust him?_

_I don’t think he could lie if he tried._

_Sounds like someone else I know._ A picture formed in Mohinder’s head of Matt giving him the finger. _That’s a bit severe. What happened?_

_Nothing._

_Matt._ Thought in the same tone that Mohinder used whenever Matt or Molly tried to get one over on him.

_Your head-_

_Please._

So Matt told him what he’d learned, and Mohinder told Matt about his conversations with Hank, and across the lab Scott and Hank watched them stand close together, foreheads touching.

“That is a spectacular bruise appearing around Mr. Parkman’s left eye,” Hank murmured as he turned away from the scene. “If you’ll pull up a stool, I’ll check your hand.”

“My hand is fine.”

Hank pinned Scott with a hard look. “It was phrased as a request, Scott; that does not make it one.”

With a sour look at Hank, Scott did as he was told, holding up his hand for inspection and pointedly looking in another direction. “He had it coming.”

“An argument I would expect to hear from Logan.”

“He insulted us, Hank.”

“We are insulted almost daily.”

“He…” Scott trailed off and looked over at Matt and Mohinder. “He hit a little closer to home than most.”

“And so you hit him.”

“Yes.”

“I assume that Molly was out of the line of sight when this happened.”

“Give me a little credit, Hank.”

“I’m giving you as little as possible.” Hank dabbed antiseptic where Scott had split a knuckle and wrapped it in a bandage. “The next time you feel the need to punch someone, you should consider less bony places than the face.”

“Thanks,” Scott gave him a bit of a smile and hopped off the stool. He glanced at Matt and Mohinder, who had finally pulled away from each other a little. “Think they were comparing notes?”

“I daresay it’s not my business.” Hank walked over to the refrigerator next to the lab counter and retrieved an ice pack. He held it out to Scott. “As you were the one to so artlessly respond to whatever Detective Parkman said, you get to offer him an apology via ice pack.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott groused but cut across the lab and stayed to Matt’s right, arm out, ice pack in his hand. “For your eye,” he explained unnecessarily.

Matt gave him a long look, but Mohinder reached forward and took the pack. “It’s appreciated.”

“M-“

“Your eye is swelling, you know. Do you want Molly to see it like this?”

“She’ll probably think it looks cool.”

“Not a ringing endorsement.” Mohinder pressed the pack to Matt’s eye carefully and gave a quick smile to Scott. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Scott walked back over to Hank, arms crossed, chest puffed out. “There . I made nice. Are you happy?”

“I will be withholding judgment until I see how he looks without the swelling.” Hank’s smile was miniscule, but Scott caught it.

“I’m not living this down for a while.” It wasn’t a question.


	3. Chapter 3

Molly looked out of the window and watched the lake ripple in the wind. She’d been in that spot for over half an hour, arms wrapped around her knees, knees tucked under her chin, and in that half hour, she’d come up with nothing to explain anything about parents who sucked. She turned as she heard someone come into the room, ready to move if asked, and she saw Kurt, book in one odd-looking hand. He spotted her as well and smiled.

“Hello, _Mädchen_. Are you done with your tour?” 

“We got to the swimming pool.” She smiled when Kurt tweaked the ends of her hair the way Mohinder did sometimes.

“You did not go in,” Kurt guessed.

“Nah. Matt started talking to Scott and…” Molly paused, wondering how to phrase it. “Do you have parents?” She asked Kurt finally, relieved to see him smile at the question.

“ _Natürlich_ , but I did not know them as a child.”

“Did they die?”

“No, but it is best we not know one another.” Kurt gestured to the open section of the window seat. “May I?”

“Sure.” Molly rearranged herself to give Kurt more room. She wasn’t sure how much space the tail would need. “So you don’t know your parents at all?”

“I know the people who raised me. That is enough. I traveled _mit_ the circus in Germany. I was an acrobat.” He smiled when Molly smiled. 

“That’s cool.” Molly looked out the window at the lake again. “My mom and dad died when I was eight. I was hiding, and Matt found me, and then The Company had me for awhile until Mohinder came and found me. And then he and Matt adopted me.”

“And you are happy.”

“Yeah. I mean, they’re cool, for dads, but Mr. Summers said that you have kids here who have parents who just _leave_ them here, and I guess…” Molly looked at Kurt and gave an expansive sigh. “It’s not that I don’t get that some parents kinda suck, you know? I mean, I have this friend, Jenny, and her mom hit her, and her dad’s just kinda, out there, somewhere, and so she’s with this foster family who are pretty cool, but I mean, it’s just-“ Molly cut off and bit her bottom lip. “I dunno. It just sucks more, I guess, when it’s not because your mom’s _always_ been a jerk but because you have this genetic mutation that isn’t even your _fault_. Don’t people understand how genetics work?”

Kurt had to force down the smile that he could feel trying to rise up. Nothing like a kid trying to understand the world to make him hopelessly happy. “Even if we explain it, I do not think it will help. Prejudice isn’t science.”

“Prejudice sucks.”

“Yes,” Kurt agreed, deciding that less was more.

Molly put her chin back on her knees and sighed again, the worn-out sigh of a thirteen-year-old discovering that the world was just a bit worse than she’d suspected. “I feel bad for them, you know? I remember my parents being really awesome, and then I got my dads, and they’re kinda dorks, but – I punched this guy at school because he was being mean to my friends, and my dads bought me _ice cream_. I mean, that’s cool. Most kids would get grounded, and I get ice cream.”

“Ice cream is good, but I do not think that is your point.”

“I’ve had two sets of parents who are, like, really _good_ at being parents, and I get that makes me lucky, but it makes me sad, too, because then there’s all these people whose parents are _bad_ at being parents, and they’re just stuck where they are.”

Kurt considered his words carefully, mindful of the gleam in Molly’s eyes that was begging for a fight. He knew that look well; saw it often amongst his students who wanted to argue about anything if it would mean someone would pay attention to them. “Home is where you make it. We give that to them here.”

“But there are parents-“

“There are parents, _Mädchen_ , and then there are parents. Had I lived with the parents who I had before the circus, I would still be in a village in Bavaria. I would be digging up turnips for dinner if I were not kept in the cellar so as not to scare the village children.” Kurt tipped up Molly’s face with his fingers and gave her a warm smile. “You prove your kindness by worrying, but you’ve no need to do so. _Die Kinder_ are safe here, and they are loved here.”

“People suck sometimes,” Molly said stubbornly.

Kurt laughed lightly. “ _Ja_ , they do.” He brushed her hair off of her face and looked around the room. “Where have you put your fathers, _Mädchen_?”

Molly shrugged. “I dunno. They’re around, I guess. Matt said I could come in here and think.”

“Well, then, I will leave you to the rest of it. I’m going to read _mein Buch_.” Kurt stood, fingers tapping on his book, and settled himself in a chair facing towards Molly, just in case she still had questions.

Molly leaned back and closed her eyes, thinking of Matt and sending out a careful, quiet, _Matt?_ Not wanting to accidentally yell in his head the way she’d done when she was younger.

_You okay, Molly?_ He sounded worried, just like Molly knew he would. He always worried.

_I’m okay. I was just wondering if you were okay._

_I’m fine, and Mohinder’s fine, too. He’s with me._

_Where are you?_

_Down in the lab. Want us to come to you?_

_Yeah._

_We’ll be there in a minute._

Molly opened her eyes and unbent her legs, flexing her toes and looking around the room. It was big and open, the way she remembered the living room being when her mom and dad were alive. The apartment in New York had lots of room for what it was, but the living room was tiny. Molly loved it because it meant everyone had to sit close together, just like when they were all trying to get something in the kitchen. Matt and Mohinder had talked about moving, finding a “real house” where they could fit everything more comfortably, and Molly was always secretly happy when those conversations died. She liked the apartment. That was her home. She didn’t need a big fancy house.

“Hey, kiddo,” Matt said as he and Mohinder walked into the room. Molly’s eyes got wide at the sight of the bruise around his eye. “I’m fine. Just a misunderstanding.”

“Someone hit you!”

“Yeah, well, I kind of had it coming.”

“What’d you do?” Molly grinned when Matt looked down at his shoes. “What was it?” Matt kept looking at his shoes. Molly looked at Mohinder. “What’d he do?”

Mohinder looked over at Matt and shook his head. “He insulted someone’s family.”

“That’s mean!” Out before she could stop it, and she felt terrible when Matt cringed. “Sorry.”

“No, I had that coming.” Matt rubbed the back of his head. “Apparently, I shouldn’t take my cues from you.”

Molly put her hands on her hips. “Hey!”

“No baiting,” Mohinder said mildly, smiling. “I think you’ve done enough for one day.”

“Hey!” This one from Matt, but before the conversation could completely devolve, there was a sudden rush of noise from the front hall, and then a handful of children along with two adults walked into the living room.

The kids stared at Molly. Molly stared back. One of them stepped forward and cocked her head at her. “What can you do?”

“I can find people in my dreams.”

The girl grinned. “Cool.” She held out her hand, palm flat, and an apple appeared. “I can do that.”

“Cool.”

The apple turned into an orange. “And that.”

“I can fly!” A boy in the back of the little crowd floated into the air.

_Don’t even think it._

Matt grinned at Mohinder. _Can’t be. He’s a blonde._

_So’s Claire._

Matt started at that, giving Mohinder a bit of a glare. _I can’t think it, but you can?_

Mohinder just shrugged and turned to the adults who were making their way across the room. One was male, tall and athletic looking; wearing a pair of jeans, a button-down shirt, and a trench coat Mohinder would have guessed a bit too hot for the weather. The other was a redheaded woman, willowy and graceful in a pair of jeans and a battered T-shirt. Mohinder saw Matt’s eyes widen, but before he could ask, the blonde man was introducing himself.

“Warren Worthington the Third,” he said with a professional smile and an outstretched hand. “Dr. Suresh, you may have seen my signature on a few research grants at the university.”

It took Mohinder a moment to place the name. “Worthington Industries, yes,” he shook Warren’s hand. “I can say, personally, that your money has done a great deal of good in my labs.”

“Good to hear.” Warren removed his coat and unfurled a pair of incredibly large wings. “And, yes, they’re real.”

Next to Mohinder, Matt was trying not to let his jaw drop to the floor. He recognized the woman. She’d been on the train the day they’d met Xavier.

_Jean Gray._ Her voice was relaxed, like she talked to people in their heads every day.

_Matt Parkman. How…?_ He made a vague gesture with his hand, encompassing the both of them, their heads and pretty much the whole situation.

_I’m a telepath with some telekinetic abilities. The professor mentioned you were a telepath, and well, you were projecting._ She smiled, and there was a bit of a smirk in it, as though she was amused by the whole situation. _And I’d like to apologize for my husband’s assault on your person._

Matt shook his head and threw up his hands. “Sorry, I just…you could hear me?”

“You’re not around telepaths much, are you?”

Matt squinted at her and tried to get a read. It was like going up against The Haitian. “…no.”

“I can block you because I’m trained to block you. I can hear what you’re thinking because you’re not trained to block me.” Jean put a hand on Matt’s arm comfortingly. “It’s a trick, like learning to reign in your power in the first place.”

“I…” Matt looked at her hand on his arm and then over at Mohinder. Mohinder was in deep conversation with the blonde man who apparently had wings. He heard ‘lab’ and ‘funds’ and ‘hollow bones’ and decided he’d be less bored talking with Jean Gray. “I’m not strictly a telepath, though. Does it work if I can do other stuff?”

“The same four walls can hold up any kind of roof.” She said it with a small smile, as though she’d heard it a lot. It made Matt laugh. “What else can you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Illusions. I can make people see and feel things that aren’t really there. I have some persuasive powers.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced around the room, finding Molly in the middle of the group of kids. “I don’t do it often, but it’s there.” Jean squinted at him, and he wondered what she was picking up. “Crap father,” he said, just to make it easier. 

“Ah,” she said, but without the same underlying knowingness from the rest of the conversation. “We’ve had a few of those.”

Matt watched a sandy-haired kid of about eleven or twelve flick balls of light off his fingers. “I’ll just bet.” Mohinder was at his side then, hand warm in the crook of his arm.

“Warren informs me that dinner’s to be served shortly. We’ve been invited to stay.”

Matt looked at Mohinder, eyes bright with whatever conversation he’d had with Warren. He looked at Jean Gray, who just gave him a smile and moved to hustle the children towards the kitchen, and then he looked at Molly, right in the middle of the group, patiently explaining that, no, she couldn’t use her power to find dogs. At least, she didn’t think so. “Dinner?” He glanced at his watch. It was just after five o’clock. "Wow, time flies when you're getting punched in the face."

“Apparently, it’s sloppy joe night.” Mohinder watched the kids along with Matt and waited until they were mostly from the room before asking, “well?” He was blatantly ignoring Matt's jab at Scott, and Matt knew it.

“Well, what?”

“Are we staying for dinner, or would you rather we pull Molly away from her adoring fans and drag her back into the city?”

Matt grinned a little and wrapped an arm around Mohinder’s waist. “Cheater. You just want to see what other toys they have here.”

“Don’t you?”

Matt considered the question while he led Mohinder towards the sounds of the kids and what he assumed was a dining area. “Jean said that she can block my thoughts and that there’s a way to block other people’s thoughts from getting into my head. It’s not a big shiny lab or a bunch of kids with abilities, but it sounds interesting.”

Mohinder smiled. “Well, it’s something, at least. Does that mean you have a slim hold on some trust for these people?”

Matt shrugged. “I don’t know yet. They seem okay, but, hell, Mohinder, they left us to twist.” The idea had already lost its shock, but Matt felt it bore repeating. “The just left us to try not and kill someone when they could have helped.”

“They went through something terribly traumatic, Matt. The human brain can only take so much trauma before it becomes necessity to shut down and handle the immediate issues. We can’t hold it against them that they had to take a step back.”

“There’s taking a step back and there’s telling everyone to go fuck themselves.”

Mohinder didn’t get a chance to respond before they were in the dining area, the kids and adults are clamoring around a huge circular table. _I think you don’t want there to be a difference._

_What?_ Matt pulled out two chairs and sat in one. Mohinder took the other. _What the hell is that supposed to mean?_

_Exactly what it sounds like. I think you started out wanting a fight, and you found one, and now you don’t want to let it go._

_What fight? I came here looking for information._

_So that you could tell Molly and I why we shouldn’t want to be here._

_Oh, that is complete-_

_Is it?_ And god, but Matt hated when Mohinder cut him off inside his own head. _You’re nervous and scared and afraid that someone who’s tried to hurt us before is going to jump out of the hedges. You’re trying to hide it, but I can see it._

_I’m cautious. I think I’ve earned the right to be._

_These people have been nothing but gracious-_

_And yet, they still hung us out to dry._

“Matt?” Molly was watching the two of them from across the table. “Are you two mind-fighting?”

“We’re just having a discussion, Molly,” Mohinder explained before Matt could say something inappropriate. “It’s a bit heated.”

Scott laughed from where he was placing a bowl of green beans onto the table. “Jean and I have had a few of those.”

“All part of a relationship,” Jean countered as she passed the hamburger buns around the table. “But it lets you have a fight in public without causing a scene.” She grinned at Matt who couldn’t help but grin back. “But I’m sure you already know that.”

“We’ve learned a few tricks,” Matt admitted grudgingly, reaching under the table to squeeze Mohinder’s hand. _I worry._

_I know._

“Tell me, Detective Parkman,” Hank said after the buns had finished their round of the table, “How does your power translate to your on-the-job performance?”

“It’s not as useful as you might think, actually. If I can’t back up what I hear people think with actual evidence, it’s a lost cause.” Matt passed the green beans to Mohinder and took the bread basket from Kurt. “If I know I’ve got something to back me up, I usually use what I can read from someone to get them talking, but most of the time, it’s your basic, boring detective work.”

“I wouldn’t call it boring,” Mohinder said, tone conciliatory and honest. “You work hard.”

Matt gave him a quick smile. “I’m not saying things don’t get interesting, but day-to-day, it’s pretty basic.”

“I would think, Detective Parkman, that you would not consider yourself quite so average,” Professor Xavier rolled into the dining room wearing a suit and tie and smiling softly. “You have done extraordinary things.”

Matt raised his eyebrows, the suspicion he’d been trying to swallow coming up to the forefront again. “How much do you know about us, Professor?”

“Matt,” Mohinder put a hand on his arm and gave him a pointed look. “This isn’t appropriate dinner conversation.”

“You’re not curious about what he knows about us?”

“If you like, Detective Parkman, I’d be happy to discuss it with you after dinner, when the students are otherwise engaged.”

“We never get to hear anything good,” the girl who made apples and oranges whispered to Molly. “They always talk about adult stuff after dinner.”

Molly considered Matt and Mohinder from across the table. “I know the feeling.”

“I heard that,” Matt said, giving Molly a look similar to what Mohinder had just given him. “And we do not leave you out of that many discussions.”

“Yeah. Sure.” She made a face, and Matt made one back.

“Mature,” from Jean, who was smiling.

“I can make a better face than that,” Bobby challenged, pulling one of his own.

Matt grinned. “There’s one in every family.”

Jean gestured to the kids, all who were now involved with the face-making. “Depends on the family.”

Matt laughed at that and put his attention back on Professor Xavier. “I think you should talk to Mohinder. I think he’ll have better questions.”

“Matt, if you have questions-“

“Yours will be better.” _And if I’m spoiling for a fight, do you really want me alone in a room with a guy in a wheelchair?_

_Fair._ Mohinder nodded in Professor Xavier’s direction. “After dinner, then.”

“Excellent.” Professor Xavier wheeled himself to the head of the table and looked around the table, smiling at the assembled crowd. “Any sign of Logan?”

Scott shook his head and buttered a roll. “Not since breakfast. I saw his bike in the garage earlier, so I assume he’s around.”

Professor Xavier placed his fingers against his temple and closed his eyes. Matt and Mohinder looked at each other. Molly was too busy entertaining her cohorts to notice. Mohinder looked to Hank, seated on the near edge of the half-circle of children.

“The Professor is locating Logan with a bit of telepathy.” Hank didn’t miss the way Matt’s lips tightened at the information. “He does not do it unless it is expressly permitted.”

“Sure,” Matt said, but didn’t sound convinced. “Who’s Logan?”

“A _sehr_ cranky man.” Kurt said, smile on his face. “Good heart. Very short temper.”

Mohinder thought of Bennet and grinned. “We know the type.”

Bobby shook his head, “Believe me, you don’t know this type.”

“Do the words ‘Napoleon Complex’ mean anything to you?” Warren asked with a laugh.

“I don’t have a complex,” a voice growled from the dining room door. The voice belonged to a short man in a worn t-shirt and even more worn jeans. His work boots were dinged and scuffed and there was the stub of a cigar hanging from his mouth.

“Ah, Logan,” Professor Xavier greeted him like an old, dear friend. “You nearly missed dinner.”

“Pity.” The sarcasm was thick. Logan took a seat next to Kurt and accepted a hamburger bun that Jean floated over to his plate. “Thanks, Jeannie.”

“You’re welcome.”

Logan filled his plate and was about to take a bite when he noticed Matt watching him. “You must be the tour.”

Matt sized him up, eyes squinting as he took in the details. Gravelly voice and a bit of gray in his hair, but no lines around his eyes or any real signs of aging. “And what do you do?”

“What needs to be done.”

Beside Matt, Mohinder snorted and muttered, “Bennet’s got competition.”

Matt chuckled lowly. “Hair’s all wrong.”

Logan bit into his sloppy joe, swallowed, and took a drink of water. “Hair’s just fine.”

Matt looked abashed at being heard, Mohinder just grinned. “Nice to meet you, Logan,” Mohinder said to try and change the subject.

“Sure,” Logan said, taking another bite from his sandwich.

“You will find,” Hank said as he speared his green beans, “that Logan is not a particularly willing conversationalist. Bobby, on the other hand, could entertain a blank wall for hours.”

“Hey!” Bobby grinned while feigning insult. “At least someone around here is amusing.”

“I am sitting right here,” Kurt said with his own grin, and the conversation turned into an attempt for Kurt, Bobby, and eventually Warren to outdo each other with various embarrassing stories of the others. 

_They’re definitely out to get us._ Mohinder’s voice in Matt’s head sounded like it was laughing.

Matt didn’t bother to answer, just finished off his sandwich and leaned back in his chair, laughing as the stories got more outlandish. At one point, as Warren recounted a moment where Kurt was naked in a linen closet, Matt realized that he was being watched very closely by Logan. He raised his eyebrows. Logan squinted and turned away. Matt wondered on it as Scott served up ice cream for dessert and the stories took a decidedly embarrassing turn for everyone who wasn’t Jean.

“I was the first woman to join the school,” she said as she stopped one of the kids from drowning his ice cream in chocolate syrup, “and the boys were rather taken.”

“And why wouldn’t we be?” Scott leaned over and kissed Jean on the cheek. “We all made complete fools of ourselves.”

Jean laughed. “Hank grew me a stunning exotic flower, something from deep in the jungles of Peru, and I found out I was allergic.”

“Hives,” Hank muttered while shaking his head. “She took one sniff, and her neck just broke out in hives.” He laughed. “Of course, I didn’t nearly drop her while flying.”

Warren rolled his eyes. “You almost drop one gorgeous redhead from a hundred feet up, and no one ever forgets.”

“At least you didn’t try to be suave like Bobby and ice the floor in front of my door in hopes of catching me mid-fall.”

The tips of Bobby’s ears turned pink. “Yeah, well, I’ve never said I was smooth.”

Mohidner and Matt were both laughing openly, and Matt raised his eyebrows at Scott. “What about you?”

“I stuttered a lot and didn’t say much.”

“He tripped up the stairs once,” Jean interjected. “He said goodnight to me and fell over his feet. It was really sweet.”

“Yeah, sweet,” Scott scoffed, but he was beaming at her.

Mohinder looked to Kurt. “And you?”

“ _Nein_ , I did nothing. I was not part of the original class, as it were. I came later, and by that time Jean and Scott were already well on their way to their very happy rut.”

“We do not have a rut!”

Kurt waved a hand at Scott. “Of course not, _mein freund_.” 

Mohinder considered asking Logan, but there was something about the way his shoulders were set that made him veer over to Professor Xavier. “And were you aware of their antics, Professor?”

The Professor smiled, looking around the table. “Very much so, but they were teenagers, and part of being a teenager is horrific embarrassment in front of the opposite sex.”

“And horrific embarrassment in front of the same sex,” Hank said with a meaningful look at Bobby.

Bobby put his arms on the table and his head in his arms. “I will never live down anything ever in my life,” he mumbled into the table top. The crowd around the table laughed, and then Jean stood up with Warren and started clearing the table.

“You’re on dishes tonight,” Warren reminded Kurt. Kurt made a face but stood to help. “Movie night tonight,” he told Matt. “Molly’s more than welcome to join the kids while you and Mohinder speak with the Professor.”

Matt and Mohinder didn’t have to look over to know that Molly was trying to pretend like she wasn’t absolutely dying to hang out with the other kids. Mohinder raised his eyebrows to Matt and Matt nodded. “Go ahead, Molly.”

She jumped up from the table, grabbing her plate along the way, and followed the other kids into the kitchen. She backed up a step and threw Matt and Mohinder a brilliant smile. “I can stay for the whole movie, right?”

“We’ll see,” Matt said as he and Mohinder stood up from the table. Warren took their plates, and Bobby jerked his head towards the other room.

“Beer?”

Mohinder’s eyebrows shot up. “You have beer here?”

“Not anywhere the kids will go near it.” Bobby said with a grin. “We keep it behind Logan’s room.”

Logan grunted and stepped around Matt. Matt wasn’t quite sure, but he was fairly certain he was sniffed as Logan shouldered past. “I’ll take a beer,” he said after a moment of silence.

“I’ll pass,” Mohinder said. “Professor, if you have a moment now, I’d like to speak with you.”

“Of course,” The Professor wheeled around the table and waved a hand towards the door. “If you’d like to adjourn to my office, we can speak at length.”

_You’ll be okay?_

_I’ll be fine._ Mohinder touched Matt’s shoulder, gave him a reassuring smile, and headed after the Professor.

Matt gave Bobby a grin that was mostly un-forced. “Beer?”

Bobby grinned. “Beer.” He led the way through a television room, where the kids had already started to pile up, and out a side door to a small terrace with patio chairs and a wood-paneled mini-fridge.

“Is Logan really so scary that the kids stay away?” 

“Yes,” Logan said from behind Matt, making him start.

Bobby and Hank gave Logan a look. “Behave, Logan,” Hank said mildly.

Logan shrugged and opened the fridge, tossing beers to Bobby and Logan before holding one out to Matt. Matt took it, cautious suddenly. “…thanks.”

“Yeah.” Logan retrieved his own beer and they all sat.

“So-“ Matt cut off when a long, thin claw slid out between the middle knuckles on Logan’s hand and he used it to pierce his beer. Matt blinked and glanced at Hank and Bobby, who had both simply popped the top on their beers and seemed to be completely unimpressed by Logan’s trick. _Okay._ Matt popped the top on his own beer and took a drink. “That’s…something.”

“Adamantium,” Hank said. “An unbreakable metal, as far was we know. Logan’s skeleton is coated with it.”

“Ah,” Matt managed to keep himself from asking if it’d hurt. “That’s something.”

“Said that already, bub,” Logan said as he took a long drink of his beer. “How hard did Slim hit you?”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “You weren’t around all day, and you know about that?”

“Not much gets past me.” 

“…yeah.” Something about Logan was throwing Matt completely off his game. He had no idea how to respond to anything Logan might say, so he just sipped his beer and looked over the backyard. After a few moments, Hank cleared his throat.

“Tell us, Detective Parkman-“

“Matt,” Matt interrupted. 

Hank nodded, smiling. “Matt, then. How did you save the world?”

Matt snorted and took another sip of his beer. “The first time or the second time?” He couldn’t quite take the edge of bitterness from his voice, but Hank and Bobby seemed willing to ignore it. Logan barely looked up from his own beer.

“Chronological tends to work best,” Hank replied.

Chronological meant starting in Los Angeles and the beginning of the end with Janice. It also meant starting with Molly. Matt smiled to himself. “I missed a lot of the main action in that one; I didn’t make it to New York until the big finale. I was in L.A. at the time. I was a patrol officer. I got a call to assist at a murder scene.”

Bobby leaned forward, Hank settled himself more comfortably in his chair, and Logan shifted half an inch. Matt had an attentive audience.

*

Professor Xavier’s office was lined with bookshelves. There was a couch, two chairs, a coffee table and a wide desk. Mohinder sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely out in front of his legs. Professor Xavier rolled into place a few feet from him, placed his hands in his lap and gave Mohinder an inquiring look.

“Where would you like to start, Dr. Suresh?”

Mohinder considered the question carefully. There were a dozen places to start. Molly’s principal came first to mind, but Mohinder rejected the idea. It was a side track to where he really wanted to be in the conversation. He studied his shoes, looked around the room, and finally looked Professor Xavier in the eyes. “Bobby told us that you knew of us because Matt was taken by The Company.”

“That’s correct.”

“How?”

“When he was being held by The Company, his mind reached out for help. I heard his call,” the Professor’s mouth quirked in a small, wry smile, “not that I could have missed it. It was no less than a reverberating scream.”

“Matt was taken by The Company weeks before Kirby Plaza. You knew that he was out there for at least a month.” Mohinder started getting a tingling sensation on the back of his neck. He suddenly understood Matt’s earlier, angry reaction. He took a deep breath and clenched and unclenched his hands deliberately. “Did you try to approach him?” His voice was not as calm as he had hoped, but it felt unimportant to correct his tone.

Professor Xavier broke eye contact and looked over Mohinder’s shoulder at nothing in particular. “We did not,” there was grief in his voice.

“Why not?” Mohinder bit into the ‘t’, pressing his teeth together for an instant. He watched Professor Xavier as the man stared past him, and he was tempted to grab his shoulders and shake him until he got an answer. The barest hints of his usual decorum left him in his seat, but did not stop him from repeating his question. “Why not, Professor?”

“Because I am a foolish man, Dr. Suresh.” The Professor looked at Mohinder again. “Because I am completely and utterly fallible and have no defense for my egregious actions. I had…” Professor Xavier shook his head. “I am afraid that to understand my actions, you must understand what preceded them. What Wanda did-“

“I’ve heard a great deal of Wanda today,” Mohinder cut in, “and I am suddenly out of patience for the sob story of what she’s done to you and yours. I am much more concerned with your lack of care for me and mine.”

Professor Xavier’s jaw set in a dangerous angle, his left hand curled tightly around the bottom of his suit jacket. “Ninety-one percent of the world’s mutants were eradicated by Wanda, Dr. Suresh. The reputation of both this school and my X-Men were erased because Wanda’s power got the better of her. And before all of that, she set in place a reality that made mutants the dominant species. She made a world where they would not have to fear for our safety simply because we are genetically different. It was not a perfect world, Dr. Suresh, not by any standard, but it was liberating in a way, and when that came crashing down and all those innocent people went with it, there was nothing to be done but lick our wounds.”

Mohinder opened his mouth to counter, but Professor Xavier pressed ahead. “I am a very powerful man, Dr. Suresh. My telepathy is rivaled by a very select few, one of them being Jean Gray, and when Wanda dealt her final blow, she took my telepathy, and she gave me my legs, and I was devastated. And then my X-Men found what I had done in my arrogant, stupid youth, and they were only too happy to turn me into the streets. I can not say that I blame them in the least.”

“What did you do?” Mohinder asked before Xavier could keep talking.

“I sent my team on a mission, and they were in dire trouble, and so I put other young mutants at risk to save them, with no thought to their own hopes or fears, and those on the rescue team died, and I used my abilities to lie to my students and convince them that they had saved themselves, that those children had not gone in to rescue them.”

Mohinder swallowed hard to keep from saying something entirely emotionally based. “You’re telepathic now,” he managed, “and you’re in a wheelchair again.”

“Circumstances fell so that I had the chance to regain my power.” 

“I see.” There was a long moment of silence wherein Mohinder seriously considered standing up and walking out, grabbing Molly along the way. He breathed instead, in through his nose and out through his mouth, and decided that knowledge was better than ignorance. “Why come to us now? We’ve managed to stop two vicious threats to humanity and The Company without your assistance.”

“I know,” Xavier looked aggrieved; Mohinder couldn’t bring himself to care. “I’ll never forgive myself for making the choice to leave you to your own devices. We have a student at the school with some future-telling abilities. I asked for her input, and she told me that things were shifting and changing, and that New York would still stand.”

Mohinder thought of Hiro, and he smiled for a brief moment. It faded as he considered all the implications of what he was being told. “Did you know of a man named Sylar? He used to be Gabriel Gray.” 

“I know of him now,” Xavier clenched his hands in his lap. “During the time frame we’re discussing, we were not aware of him. He was not terribly powerful, you have to understand, merely ruthless and immoral.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Sylar’s power was to take the powers of other people, if I’m not mistaken.”

Mohinder could see it was a token statement, made simply to allow him to confirm and feel as though he had more information than Xavier. It was mildly manipulative but still managed to calm him slightly. Too many years working with Bennet, he supposed. “You’re correct. He would slice open the top of their heads and remove their brains.”

“I knew his mode was brutal, but I was not aware it was quite so…” Xavier shook his head. “It is possible that those murders were completely unnecessary, that the idea of his own power and grandeur caused him to go mad.”

It was an idea that Mohinder himself had considered. “Peter Petrelli has a similar ability to what Sylar had. He can absorb other’s powers without any physical contact. He merely has to be close to them once, and then he has it.”

Xavier smiled. “We are well aware of Peter Petrelli. He is astounding. We’ve spoken of inviting him here.”

“But you haven’t.”

“No.”

Mohinder leaned against his knees and watched the way Xavier’s face went carefully blank. “Why not? Peter would probably come in an instant, simply for the chance to see what you could teach him.”

There was a small smile on the edges of Xavier’s mouth. “Perhaps, but Peter Petrelli does not require our help. We did you a great disservice, Dr. Suresh; you’re correct in that, and we’re trying to rectify it now.”

“By offering to help Molly.”

“And Matt, if he’d like some assistance.”

“Matt has control over his power. We’ve worked on it, built up his resistance to other people’s thoughts filtering in.”

“Matt has made great strides in his control, but we can help refine what you’ve done. His ability is incredibly strong, Dr. Suresh, and with the right training, he could turn it into an amazing achievement with minimal discomfort.”

Mohinder thought about the times Matt would get home in the evenings and go straight for the medicine cabinet and the aspirin. “That would be a conversation you’ll need to have with him.”

“Of course,” Xavier said placidly. “And Molly?”

“What can you do for Molly here that we haven’t done for her at home?” Mohinder leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Refinement aside, what can she get here that won’t be had at home?”

“I’ve worked with clairvoyants, Dr. Suresh. Every teacher here has worked with clairvoyants. You are an intelligent man with a sharp mind, and I’ve no doubt that you’ve helped Molly deal with very difficult subject matter as it comes to her, but we have techniques that we can teach her to help her control her dreams and let her relax when she goes to bed at night.”

“Will you teach me these techniques?”

“Certainly, if you’re willing to learn.”

“I am.” Mohinder watched the smile on Xavier’s face become slightly wider. “And what about the others? There’s a whole selection of people who could use your assistance in learning about their powers.”

Xavier nodded. “We are aware, and it is, in fact, why I wanted the chance to approach you first.”

Mohinder leaned forward again, wary but curious. “And why, Professor, would you want to approach me first?”

*

Kurt walked onto the patio just in time to hear Matt say, “and so I shot her.” His eyes widened, and he caught the beer Logan winged at him with his tail. “You what?”

Matt looked fairly sheepish. “She can heal, for the record.”

“Ah,” Kurt said as he settled into a crouch. “That makes much more sense.” He opened his beer and looked at Logan. “Long lost relative?”

“No,”

Matt looked from Kurt to Logan. “Relative?”

“When you say heal,” Hank deflected, “what do you mean?”

“I mean I shot her in the chest, felt her pulse stop, and then she came back from the dead.”

Bobby chuckled. “Sounds like a relative of Logan’s.”

“She ain’t,” Logan ground out.

“So you?” Matt made a vague gesture, encompassing Logan from head to toe.

“Yeah.”

“So that and claws, huh?”

“And his senses are kind of enhanced,” Bobby said. “He’s like a bloodhound.”

“Robert,” Hank said wearily. “Please do remember what happened the last time you compared Logan to any sort of hunting animal.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry,” Bobby grinned apologetically at Logan.

Kurt gave Matt a questioning look. “And why did you shoot the girl?”

Matt grinned, there was a slightly evil look to it. “Her dad told me to.”

“What?”

Bobby laughed at the shocked look on Kurt’s face. “You should have been here for the first half.”

Kurt shook his head. “Something interesting always happens when it is my turn to wash up. Could you possibly summarize the events up to the point where you shot someone?”

Matt laughed. “Yeah, sure.” He backtracked, starting with the day he found Molly and skimming along to the point where he and Ted were ready to bring down all manner of hell on Noah Bennet. “So I shot Claire to try and get Bennet away from Ted for a few minutes, and Bennet and I came up with a plan.”

“You hung Ted out to dry,” Logan practically growled from his chair. 

“Not quite. Look, Ted was messed up, and Bennet was certainly messed up, no question, but Ted was about to go nuclear and kill everyone in the house. Bennet, at least, was willing to get us out alive. He wasn’t less screwed up so much as a different type of screwed up.” Matt tried to make eye contact with Logan, tried to get a feeling for him, but Logan continued to sit with his chin tucked against his chest and didn’t look up.

“What happened next?” Bobby asked, pulling Matt’s thoughts away from Logan.

“Ted went up. Nuclear. Claire walked through the whole thing to tranquilize him. After that, Claire went into hiding, and Bennet, Ted, and I were captured by The Company. We got out, and we headed to New York. Sylar was there. It got ugly. Ted died, and Peter nearly took out the city.”

There was a long, pregnant pause until, finally, Kurt cleared his throat and said quietly, “I wish we could have helped.”

Matt shook his head, his earlier anger having faded out as he re-told the story. “Hell, we managed it. Just barely, but we managed it. I can’t…” he trailed off, took a sip of beer, and tried again. “It’s been a long damned day, and part of that has to do with the fact that I’ve spent it wondering if I’m some sort of fucked up accident thanks to this Wanda person.”

“Wanda never did anything accidentally,” said Logan as he raised his head. “Everything she did, she did on purpose.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “From what I hear, she went nuts.”

“Being nuts doesn’t make you stupid. She knew everything she was doing, right down to wiping out most of us and setting up you new guys.”

“Logan,” Hank said quietly, “we have no proof of that.”

“And the world don’t have proof of us anymore, doesn’t mean we’re not here for a reason.”

“Logan,” from Hank again.

“She was fucked up, Hank. She still knew what she was doing.” Logan crushed his beer can. “You’re the one who goes on about shit happening for a reason.” He stood up and walked to the fridge for another beer. “She could have done all this just to be fuck with us. She could have given all these people powers just so she could watch what happened from wherever she’s hiding now.”

Matt didn’t miss the way that Hank looked vaguely nervous. Pure instinct was telling him that Hank knew something. He raised his eyebrows. Hank raised his in return. Hell of a poker face, Matt thought, but held his tongue.

“Maybe she did it all just to mess with us,” Logan continued as he stabbed another beer. “Considering her background.”

“Background?” Matt asked, not sure if he really wanted to know.

Kurt looked at Bobby. “You did not tell him?”

Bobby snorted through his nose. “Yeah. Sure. Right after he didn’t threaten me to get the hell out. No, wait, that part _did_ happen.”

The look Hank gave Matt that time he could read clearly. “Didn’t lay a hand on him,” he insisted and held up a hand in deference. “What about her background?”

“Wanda’s father,” Kurt said, eyes on the ground, tail tapping against the slate tiles, “he is Magneto.” Kurt looked up at Matt, who shook his head to show he didn’t recognize it. “Before Wanda, he was very well known for his violent approach to protecting mutants.”

“And when you say ‘violent approach’, you mean that as it says,” Matt said.

Kurt nodded. “Ja. He has stayed quiet since M-day.”

“M-day?”

“What we call it,” Hank said. “The day Wanda wiped out most of us.”

“Oh.” Matt looked around the group. Logan was back in his position, chin against his chest. Kurt was staring at the ground. Bobby was looking at Hank. Hank was looking down at his hands. Matt wasn’t sure what to do. Changing the subject seemed the best strategy. “So, Hank, what else is in the basement besides your lab?”

Hank gave Matt a bare smile. “A few upgrades to this old house.”

Matt grinned back at him. “So the giant circular door with the complicated key pad is what, exactly?”

“You know a lot,” Logan said while giving Matt an appraising look. “And you act like we’re out to get you.”

“I act like a complete stranger showed up and scared my daughter,” Matt shot back. “And I act like someone who spent a lot of time wondering about shady organizations.”

“You act like a telepath,” Logan said disgustedly. “Always have to know more than the rest of us.” He stood up and stalked into the house, the door reverberating when he slammed it.

“Don’t worry about him,” Bobby said before Matt could feel nervous. “Logan’s just a dick sometimes.”

“Yeah, sure,” Matt said, but he didn’t really believe it.

“I think, perhaps, it is time to call an end to this discussion,” Hank said reasonably.

Bobby and Kurt agreed, standing and leaving the patio. Hank and Matt stayed where they were, Hank watching Matt and Matt watching back. Hank looked calm and relaxed, but Matt knew how to read people, and the way Hank stretched his shoulders gave away his nervousness.

“You know something about Wanda,” Matt said after a pause.

“I know many things about many people,” Hank said evenly.

“But you know something specific about her. Something you don’t want Logan to know.”

“I have found in my time with the X-Men that most telepaths forget how to watch people when they want information. Mostly, they just try to find a hole in one’s mind armor and get their information that way.”

“Flattering,” Matt said drily, “but not distracting.”

“I did not assume it would be.” Hank glanced over his shoulder, making sure there was no one hanging about in the doorway or near a window. “Wanda went to ground after M-day, as any wounded creature would do. I found her in a small village in Europe, living as a non-mutant. She had no recollection of who she had been.”

“That doesn’t excuse what she did.”

“Of course not, but how do you convince someone with no memory of their power that it exists and caused decimation?” Hank looked Matt squarely in the eyes. “Imagine yourself a week before your gift manifested. Would you have believed anyone telling you that you were a telepath?”

Matt thought about it. A week before his telepathy manifested he was worrying about the detective’s exam again. He and Janice were in a massive decline. He pictured Mohinder knocking on his door, giving him that warm, professional smile, and telling him that he was very special indeed. “I want to say I would have believed it, but I think I may have slammed the door instead.”

Hank nodded. “You understand, then.”

“No,” Matt said quietly, “but I don’t think I could explain why I think it’s necessary that she be forced to remember.” He thought of his father, still comatose and paying for what he’d done to Molly. He thought of Bennet, still mostly estranged from Claire. He thought of Micah, an orphan because of what his parents could do. He thought of Ted. “I’m happier now than I think I’ve been in my whole life, but I had to go through more shit than most people can imagine to get there.”

“I understand,” Hank said, and Matt thought that maybe he did.


	4. Chapter 4

“You are well-respected, Dr. Suresh,” Xavier said, smile benign. “You know many people who have gifts, and they know that you can be trusted to help them. What I would like to do, if you are so inclined, is have you contact the people you know and let them know that they are welcome here.”

“You want me to act as a recruiter?”

“I want you to tell people, honestly, that they can come here for help.”

“And if I wish to stay away from you and your school?”

“Then we will attempt to approach the others on our own, but your help would be appreciated.”

Mohinder stood up. His nerves were jangling. He was remembering the deal he made with Bennet, and then the deal he made with Bob. “I’ve spent a considerable amount of time being used for someone else’s purposes, Professor. It’s not a role I like.”

“I understand,” and it sounded like maybe he did. “I am asking that you just mention the name of the Institute if you know of anyone in need of help. You and Matt have done an admirable job of assisting people as they’re come to you. I only wish to help lessen your burden.”

He sounded so sincere it made Mohinder suspicious. Bob and Bennet had sounded sincere, too. Sylar as Zane had sounded sincere. “And if I don’t help? If I take my family and leave right now?”

“We’ll wish you well.” Xavier’s smile went a touch sad. “Although, I’m hoping we’ve not been so offensive that it will come to that.”

“You haven’t,” Mohinder assured, because it was true. “If I say no, what happens to the offer for Molly and Matt?”

“They maintain. We’re here to help, Dr. Suresh, not play games with you.” Xavier rolled back a few feet to allow Mohinder room to move. “Matt’s power is fiercely strong, and Molly’s is incredibly tempestuous. Whether you’re making house calls for us or not, we would like to offer our assistance.”

“And the others I might send to you? What of them?”

“The same offer.”

“Would they have to stay here?”

Xavier looked offended. “Certainly not. They’re welcome to come and go as they please within reason. We are running a school, so certain schedules will be discouraged, but we are here to help as best we can and I imagine most of your collective will prefer an off-campus approach.

His collective; was that what they were? The Petrellis and the Bennets and Hiro and Micah and the rest, were they his? Mohinder mulled it over, watched the way Xavier politely did not watch him, and wondered if perhaps he’d finally gone crazy. “I’ll consider it,” he said after a few moments. “I’ll have to discuss it with Matt.”

“Of course,” Xavier smiled, obviously pleased. “And Molly.”

Mohinder laughed a little. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to get her to leave this place already. She won’t be a hard sell.”

“But Matt?”

“Matt spent a great deal of time watching me be used. His comfort level is in direct proportion to what’s going on in a particular moment.”

“I see,” Xavier watched Mohinder slowly circle the couch, obviously considering the angles ahead of him. “I’ve said what I’ve needed to say, Dr. Suresh, unless there’s something else.”

“There is one more thing.” Mohinder stood in front of the couch, hands on his hips, head slanted slightly downward so that he could make proper eye contact with Xavier. “Matt’s not just a telepath. He can create illusions. He can convince people that they are somewhere that is completely opposite of where they actually are. We’re not certain how far that power expands, but he was wondering-“ Mohinder cut off and shook his head, “we were wondering if he could do something like what Wanda’s already done.” Mohinder saw the surprise in Xavier’s eyes. “I take it you didn’t expect that question.”

“I was not aware of Matt’s illusion abilities. I could not make a guess on how similar or different they are from Wanda’s own powers until I saw them in action, but given how protective Matt is, and how cautious he is, I do not believe him capable of Wanda’s destruction.”

Mohinder breathed out slowly, unaware until that moment that he’d been holding his breath. “Thank goodness.” He sat back on the couch and rested his head in his hands. “I’ve been considerably worried, to be frank. So has Matt, but he’s tried to play it off. His power scares him sometimes, I think.”

“His power has considerable force.”

“He turned our apartment into a beach for Molly once. It was the middle of winter, and she was sick, and so he gave her a beach.” Mohinder smiled to himself. “He doesn’t work with his illusions often. I think he’s afraid it’ll get out of hand, that he’ll get stuck in whatever he’s made up in his head.”

“We can help him with that,” Xavier said softly.

“I just have to convince him, first.” Mohinder stood up from the couch and stretched out his arms. “Might as well do it while we’re still here to do it.” He walked towards the door but paused with his hand on the knob. “I’m still considering your offer, Professor. I would like to help, but given my past history, I believe you understand my reluctance.”

“I do ,” Xavier said with a nod. “And I wait patiently for your decision.”

“Thank you.” Mohinder said with a smile. “You’ve been a great help.”

“As have you.”

*

“So what is under the house?” Matt asked after a few moments silence. “What’s the big round door?”

“A training area,” Hank said. “We call it the Danger Room. It’s used as a practice arena for our powers. It can simulate any type of possible conditions to allow the students to find the reach of their powers.”

“Is it actually dangerous?”

“Only if you want it to be.” Hank smiled a little. “Given Logan’s particular abilities, he’s quite fond of trying to get the room to kill him.”

Matt snorted at that. “I think even without his abilities he’d probably still try.”

“Perhaps.”

 _Matt?_ Mohinder’s voice, calm and assured, like he was getting ready to give a lecture.

_What’s up?_

_I’m done speaking with Professor Xavier. I’m on my way to the living room where the kids have settled._

_I’ll meet you there in a minute._ Matt stood up, tossing his beer can towards the trash. “Mohinder’s done with Xavier.”

“I hope it was a successful meeting.”

“Couldn’t say,” Matt headed for the door, Hank at his heels. “Tell me,” he said as he opened the door, “would it do any good to apologize to Logan?”

“No,” Hank said, but there was a twinkle in his eye. “But I’ll pass it along if you like.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Matt opened the door, and they walked into the house side by side, Hank leading slightly as they neared the living room.

The kids were sitting around a big-screen television, two on the couch, one in an arm chair, and the others on the floor with various pillows, blankets, and snacks. Molly and the boy who could fly were both using Kurt as a pillow. He spotted Hank and Matt, winked, and disappeared in a puff of smoke and noise, making both kids fall backwards.

Molly waved the smoke away from her, coughing a little. “That really smells.”

The flying kid shrugged. “You get used to it.”

Matt wondered what Molly was thinking as he watched her consider the statement. He imagined it was something along the lines of a smelly type of smoke really being the least of things she’d had to get used to. She spotted him and grinned. “Hi!”

“Hey,” Matt gave her a wave, having learned the hard way that she’d reached the age where getting hugged in front of boys was just embarrassing to her. “Mohinder’s headed this way.”

“Do we have to leave?” She looked completely crushed at the idea. Matt wondered if she had a crush on the boy who could fly.

“I don’t know. I have to talk to Mohinder.”

“Cool.” Molly settled back on the floor, taking a pillow another of the kids offered her and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “I’ll be here.”

Matt grinned at her when her attention went back to the movie and looked over when he saw Hank move in his peripheral vision. Mohinder and Professor Xavier were walking through another door. Mohinder looked relaxed and his eyes were bright. “Good meeting?”

“It was adequate.” Mohinder broke eye contact with Matt to glance at Molly. “And her?”

“She’s just fine.”

“Good. That’ll give us a moment.” Mohinder hooked his hand into Matt’s elbow and gave a slight tug. “I’ve been propositioned.”

Matt raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

“Not like that.” Mohinder chuckled lightly and gave Hank a nod as he led Matt into an adjacent room. It was full of tables and chairs, most likely some sort of study carrel. “Professor Xavier has offered to help you and Molly fine tune your abilities.” Mohinder held up a hand as Matt opened his mouth to reply. “However we want to set it up. We can stay in the city and just visit here as needed. We can stay here for an extended period if we decide that would be best. Molly could go to school here-“

“Stop,” Matt said quietly, holding back his initial reaction of yanking his arm out of Mohinder’s hand and storming out of the room. They’d had a perfectly pleasant day, save the punch Matt could admit he had coming. There was nothing to fear here. So far, at least. “And what’s in it for them?” He saw the way Mohinder’s mouth pulled to the side. “There’s something.”

“A genuine offer which I can turn down if I so choose.”

“Said the scorpion to the frog.”

“These people aren’t The Company,” Mohinder hissed.

“They have a training room,” Matt said sharply. “They call it The Danger Room.”

“So? If they’re genuinely interested in seeing people with abilities learn to use them, a training set up would be an excellent resource.”

“And if they’re genuinely interested in using us as experiments-“

“Do any of those children out there look as though they’re being used for experiments? Do any of them look even the slightest bit uncomfortable being here?”

Matt stepped away from Mohinder and circled the room once, then again. He breathed deep, he tried to center himself. He reached out a little and received only thoughts from Molly and Mohinder. Molly was debating using the bathroom. Mohinder was thinking some particularly vile names at Matt. “I can’t read anyone here,” he finally said. “It’s like The Haitian; there’s nothing. Jean Gray said she was trained to block things. I think everyone here is.”

“So?” Mohinder met Matt’s glare with one of his own. “You pick up stray thoughts on a regular basis. I imagine the students prefer their privacy-“

“I can’t read anyone,” Matt repeated, more force in his words. “We have no proof that this isn’t some kind of trap.”

“For fuck’s sake, Matthew,” Mohinder ground out, “give your trust to _someone_.”

“I do.” Matt said pointedly, hands on his hips, staring straight at Mohinder.

“Yes, you’re doing a remarkable job in that,” Mohinder spat. “Has the day really been so terrible that you must assume the worst?”

“Has it really been so great that you must assume the best?”

Mohinder looked around the room, desperate for something to look at that wasn’t the tremendous worry in Matt’s eyes. “You trust me. I trust them. Surely that means something.”

“I…” Matt shook his head and sighed. He walked over to Mohinder and made him look at him. “Mohinder-“

“Just because you can’t read everyone in the room does not mean they’re all out to get you, Matt.” The way Mohinder said it, low and controlled, hurt Matt more than if Mohinder had yelled at him.

“What’s the deal?” Matt asked instead of keeping up the argument. “They teach Molly and I how to work with what we have, and what do you do?”

“I spread the word, if I want,” Mohinder said neutrally. “Professor Xavier is aware of the others, and he believes that my previous experience with them could be beneficial.”

“In what way?”

“In a recruitment way. After your illustrious introduction to Xavier at the school, he thought that having someone who knows the people who went through what we did would be better than a strange man showing up and trying to talk with people.”

“And it is, of course, completely optional,” Matt’s voice was layered in sarcasm.

“For once, yes, it is.” Mohinder watched the way Matt tried to hold back whatever he desperately wanted to say. “I trust them,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Matt responded quietly. “But I’m not sure I can.”

“They could help Molly.”

“They could strap Molly to a table and stick needles in her eyes.”

Mohinder made an inelegant, frustrated noise. “And who here have you met that has led you to that conclusion? Who here is so very dangerous or vile that you expect Molly to be tortured as soon as our backs are turned?”

Matt had nothing to counter with and after a few moments, threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Whatever. Do what you want.”

“How terribly noble of you.”

Matt rounded on Mohinder, backed him against a wall and got straight in his face. “The last time we trusted anyone who wasn’t us-“

“I’m asking you to trust _me_ , Matt.” Mohinder interrupted. “Trust me when I say that these are not bad people. These are not terrible people. These are honestly good people.”

“These are people who left us to almost blow up New York.”

“These are people who are trying to do right by that mistake.” Mohinder watched the way Matt’s eyes slid to one side, a sure sign he was getting through. “We’re none of us innocent, Matt.”

“Don’t quote at me right now.” Matt stepped away and pressed a hand to his head. “Don’t try to sound like a professor with all the answers. I already know you don’t have them. If you want to convince me, then just convince me.”

“Fine.” Mohinder considered his options, heard a burst of laughter from the television room, and went for the lowest common denominator. “Molly likes it here. She doesn’t have to hide here. She can be clairvoyant here and no one will care. She’s smart and well-adjusted and confident and brave, but she still wakes up with nightmares half the time. They can help her nightmares, Matt. They can help her sleep.”

Matt slumped onto a table, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyebrows, and spoke to his shoes. “That’s cheating.”

“It’s fact. And here’s another; as hard as we’ve worked, as hard as you’ve worked, you could use some fine-tuning yourself. I’m aware of the amount of aspirin you use in a week. If Jean Gray can learn to block out thoughts, certainly you can as well.” Mohinder chanced sitting next to Matt and touching their shoulders together. “You and Molly, you have amazing gifts-“

“Please not this speech.”

Mohinder ignored him, “and I do believe that Professor Xavier and his staff can help you improve and enhance them. And even if you’d rather they leave you alone, I do believe they could allow Molly a full night’s sleep.”

Matt sighed deeply, his shoulders lifting from the effort. “And if Molly doesn’t want to be here?”

“Do you honestly believe she doesn’t want to be here?”

There was a pause. “No,” Matt said dejectedly. “I suppose not.” He levered himself up off the table and glanced out the door towards the television room. The rest of the staff, Logan included, had joined the kids for the last part of the movie. Everyone was practically piled on everyone else. It looked comfortable, homey; nothing like The Company at all.

“It can be a weekend program of a sort,” Mohinder said quietly. “If you feel you can handle it, perhaps we’ll see about letting her stay up her for a week or so before school starts, if she wants it as well.”

“And me?”

Mohinder walked over to where Matt stood in the doorway and reached for his hand. “You can do as you like. I will support whatever decisions you make for yourself.”

“And you?”

“Of that, I’m not certain. I do trust their invitations to you and Molly, but I feel I’ve spent more than enough time as someone else’s errand boy.” Mohinder smiled at Matt when Matt squeezed his hand. “Perhaps I’ll say something to a few people, but I rather like being a full time professor.”

“You could work here. We could move up here. Get Molly away from the city, let her grow up a little further away from people who might try to find her.”

“It’s very kind of you to say that, but I know your heart’s not in it.”

Matt grinned wryly. “No, it’s not, but if you’d be happy with their toys, I’d come along.”

“I know, but I’m quite content with the toys I have.” Mohinder leaned into Matt’s shoulder, smiled when Matt slipped an arm around him and pulled him in tight. “And I can’t imagine Molly would want to leave her school and her friends just yet.”

“Yeah,” Matt said, bussing a kiss into Mohinder’s hair. “Can I have a night to sleep on it before we make the final decisions?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

They walked into the television room, and Hank and Bobby made a bit of room for them on the couch. Molly glanced at them, eyebrows up. _And?_

_We’ll talk about it later._

Molly made a face. _That means tomorrow._

Matt smirked at her. _That’s life, kid._

 _You suck._ But there was no venom in it.

 _Language_ , Mohinder interjected as he accepted popcorn from Bobby. And I don’t care that only we can hear you.

_You guys are so lame._

_Yeah? Tell that to your flying boyfriend._ Matt grinned when Molly’s only response was an annoyed yelp in his head. _We’re leaving after the movie._

 _Fine._ Molly threw herself onto her pillow, purposely not looking at Matt, Mohinder, or the kid who could fly.

Mohinder gave Matt a slightly reproving look. Matt took a handful of popcorn from the bowl Bobby had left between the two of them and shrugged. _At least no one else can hear us._

 _The two of you…_ Mohinder let it trail off, shaking his head in defeat and trying to figure out exactly what the movie was trying to accomplish.

Twenty-five minutes later, as the credits started to roll, he still had no idea, nor was he particularly interested in finding out, so it seemed only natural to help the other adults in the room in their tidying.

“Kurt’s grabbing the wastebasket from the kitchen,” Jean said as Mohinder started gathering popcorn bags. She half-turned and grabbed one of the students by the back of his T-shirt. “Drop it.” A handful of wrapped candy fell to the floor. “Thank you.” She gave Mohinder a smile. “He always tries to get one by me.”

“Are the movie nights a regular event?” Mohinder asked, pitching his voice so Matt, helping Warren fold blankets, would overhear him.

_Smooth._

“We have them every week when all the kids are in. They’re twice a week in the summer, since everyone’s curfews get pushed out a couple of hours.” Jean’s eyes lit up. “Before you go, let me find you a list of our plans for the summer. We try to do something at least semi-interesting every week. If you’d like to come back and join us, we’d love to have you.”

“Thank you,” Mohinder said. _My god, Matthew, run for your life. They run things like a PTA._

 _You’ve been to the PTA. Watch yourself._ But there was a definite smile at the edges of Matt’s mouth, even from across the room.

Kurt walked into the room then, trashcan in one hand, Scott trailing behind him. He took the popcorn bags from Mohinder and put them in the can. “ _Danke_ for the help.”

“Least we can do. You’ve been wonderful hosts.”

Kurt threw a look at Scott. “Well, most of us.”

Mohinder wasn’t certain, but he was fairly sure that Scott was glaring behind his visor. The red line on the front had brightened considerably. “We had a wonderful time, even with the…scuffle.”

“I appreciate you saying that,” Scott said. He gave Mohinder a bare idea of a smile and walked over to Matt. “Detective Parkman.”

“Yes?” Matt kept his voice bland, not wanting to push any buttons, but not feeling particularly charitable.

“I just want to say that I hope my actions earlier don’t lead you to think that the Institute is in any way a bad place for Molly or yourself. I acted rashly, and I was wrong, and I apologize. Sincerely.”

Matt considered Scott for a moment and caught the way he was working his jaw. This was not a man who apologized easily. “Accepted.” Matt shook his hand. “And appreciated.” He didn’t have to look over to know that Mohinder was smiling at him. “Wasn’t one of my finer moments, either.”

“If you decide to come for a visit, we’ll tell the story over dinner.”

Matt grinned then. “Yeah. Sure.” He looked at Mohinder then, just to see the way his entire face lit up. “And you’re eavesdropping.”

“Keeping watch,” Mohinder countered, smile not faltering. “Just to be safe.”

Matt shook his head while Scott chuckled. “I think we should keep him and Jean far away from each other. I think they could mother hen us both to death.”

“I heard that!” Jean yelled as she walked back into the television room. She handed Mohinder a sheet of light blue paper. “Our schedule. We’re having a week of light training the last week of July. Nothing to get nervous about, just a few relaxation techniques and tests of control.”

Mohinder didn’t have to look over to know that Matt had tensed. “Tests for the whole week?”

“Tests for a few hours a day, spaced out over activities the kids actually like.” Jean turned so that only Mohinder could see the conspirator’s smile on her face. “The kids think it’s boring, but it helps, and in between they get to play around outside or take an art class or something like that.” Jean glanced at Matt with a grin. “We even teach them a bit of self defense.”

“Molly’s an orange belt,” Matt replied, but he was smiling a bit. He caught the pleased look from Mohinder as Mohinder stepped around Jean. “I’m trying.”

“You are.” 

Jean looked at Scott and raised her eyebrows. _Truce?_

Scott shrugged. _Maybe. We can hope, at least._

Molly bounded into the room then, eyes bright, face a bit flushed. The flying boy was a few steps behind trying very hard not to look like he wanted to talk to her. “We helped clean up in the kitchen.”

“Thank you,” Jean said, giving Molly a smile. “Dennis, shouldn’t you be headed for bed?”

“I, uh, yeah.” Dennis shuffled his feet a bit and smiled at Molly. “Bye.”

Molly blushed and looked at her own feet. “Bye.”

Matt and Mohinder both nodded goodnight as Dennis crossed the room to head for a set of stairs. As soon as he was up the stairs, Matt broke out in a grin. “So, he seems like a nice boy.”

Molly pinked up from her neck to the top of her ears. “Don’t tease. It’s mean.”

Mohinder bit his lips to keep from smiling. “We’re glad you’ve made friends, Molly.”

 

She looked back and forth between them, trying to decide if they were going to be mean. Finally she threw up her hands in a move reminiscent of Matt and then put her hands on her hips. “Are we going or what?” Said with all the arrogance of a blushing teenage girl who just wanted to sit in a corner of the car and pretend like her parents didn’t exist.

“We should get going,” Mohinder said after another few moments of making Molly squirm.

“Hold on just a minute, and I’ll get everyone in here,” Jean said as she walked towards the kitchen. “We like to see all our tours off as a group.”

Scott chuckled at the slightly pained look that went across Matt’s face. “Who else did you piss off?”

“Logan.”

Scott scoffed. “Get in line. Unless you insulted the beer, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“The beer was good,” Matt said as the full group walked into the television room. Kurt picked up Molly swung her around, and then teleported her across the room. She squealed delightedly when they reemerged, and Mohinder curled his hand on Matt’s wrist to keep him from running over.

“She’s obviously fine.”

Matt breathed deep. “Yeah. Okay.” He held out his hand as Warren walked over. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Warren’s hand shake was firm. “If you guys come back, we’ll have to practice together, see what your power of suggestion can do.”

“Do you people keep anything from each other?” Out before Matt could stop it. 

Warren laughed. “Not usually, but we’ll make an effort when you’re around.”

“I’d appreciate that, thanks.” 

Mohinder was shaking hands with Hank and handing over a business card. “If you hear anything interesting you think I might have missed, do send me a note, and I’ll forward the information I have on anyone willing to have their information shared.”

“It would be much appreciated.” Hank tucked the card into his pants pocket and nodded at Matt. “Drive safely.”

Matt held out his hand and they shook. “We will, thank you.”

Bobby was up next, shaking Mohinder’s hand like they were old buddies at a fraternity reunion, and shoving his hands in his pockets when it came to Matt. “No offense, but you scare me a little.”

Matt couldn’t help but grin. “Good.” Matt caught the way Hank changed stance, like he was prepared to jump in if necessary. “But Hank can probably beat me in a fight.”

Bobby grinned and rocked back on his heels. “No question.”

Then it was Scott and Jean, shaking hands, saying goodbye, and Jean even kissed Matt on the cheek. _We’re really not all bad, you know._

_So everyone keeps telling me._

_Well then, what’s one more time?_

_Annoyance._ Matt was glad when she laughed.

“Fair,” she said and squeezed his shoulders. “But we do hope to see you again.”

“I’m…working on it.”

“That’s a good place to start.”

Scott and Jean moved out of the way so that Kurt could hand over Molly, who was suddenly looking very tired. “Teleportation is draining, but I thought she should try it once.”

“It was,” Molly paused to yawn hugely, “really cool.”

“ _Danke_ ,” Kurt said and smiled at her. He shook hands with Matt and Mohinder. “Safe travel on your way, I hope.”

“Thank you,” Mohinder said with a smile. “You’ve all been more than gracious.”

“Well, not Logan,” Bobby corrected, “but he was as gracious as he gets.”

“Heard that,” said Logan as he stepped into the room. He and Matt sized up one another. After a moment, Logan dug a cigar from a pocket on his jeans and gave a nod. “Night.”

Matt nodded back. “Good night.”

Mohinder raised his eyebrows. “I missed something.”

“I’ll tell you in the car,” Matt said as he reached down and hefted Molly into his arms. “You’re about to fall over.”

“Mmm,” Molly said, mostly asleep against Matt’s shoulder. Matt and Mohinder waved goodbye and stepped onto the porch. The car was still in the middle of the courtyard and next to it sat Professor Xavier. 

“I was hoping for a moment alone with the three of you,” Xavier explained as Matt moved around him to get Molly in the car. Xavier watched him settle her into the seat, buckle her in and carefully close the door. “Detective Parkman,” he said once the door was closed, “you have an amazing gift, and it’s very strong, and I would like to help you refine it.”

“I’ve heard all this,” Matt said, not unkindly, “and I know you can help Molly, too. Repeating it to me just makes me want to be rude.”

Professor Xavier nodded. “I understand.” He held out his hand. “Have a safe trip, and please feel free to contact the school if you have any questions at all.”

“I will,” Matt shook his hand then turned to get into the car.

“Dr. Suresh, I hope you’re still considering my earlier request.”

“I am,” Mohinder said, shaking hands. “And I want to thank you for your hospitality today.”

“It was our pleasure.” Xavier wheeled backwards as Mohinder opened his car door and settled himself inside. He waved goodbye as they exited through the gate and sat and watched their taillights fade in the darkness.

Jean came out of the building a few minutes later, followed by Scott and Bobby. “Professor?”

“The longest journey begins with the first step,” Xavier said in reply.

“Or the first tour,” Bobby said, grinning. “Which was, if I may say so, particularly entertaining.”

*

On the road, out of sight of the school, Mohinder watched Matt in the street lamps as they drove through Salem Center. “How’s your eye?”

“It’s okay. It’ll probably hurt tomorrow.” Matt checked his rearview and signaled to get into the turning lane. “Looks like this place closes down once it’s dark.”

Mohinder nodded and looked over his shoulder at Molly. She was fast asleep against the door, mouth hanging open, hands in her lap. “I think she may sleep the whole way home.”

“Good, then you can say what I know you want to say without her claiming we’re leaving her out,” Matt’s tone had a touch of teasing in the bottom layer. “Because I know you’re not actually going to give me until the morning to make up my mind.”

“I was only going to say one thing,” Mohinder couldn’t help but smile at the way Matt smirked. “Honestly.”

“Well, say it then.”

“Plenty of children spend at least part of their summer at a camp of some sort. If Molly played an instrument we’d send her to music camp. If she sang or dance, we’d send her to theater camp, but the talent she has means letting her lean with Xavier. We’ve done everything we know how, Matt, and most of that was improvisation. These people have a clear plan for working with these children, and they have it set up like any other camp program.” Mohinder stoppd and breathed in and looked at Matt as the lights faded away and Matt’s profile became little more than a shadow. “And that’s all I wanted to say.”

Matt smiled a little, not that Mohinder could see it in the shadows, but it carried in his tone. “No it’s not.”

“Well, then, it’s all I’m going to say.”

There was silence for nearly ten miles. Mohinder looked out the window and thought of everything but the view. Matt drove and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and occasionally glanced in the mirror to check on Molly. They passed the sign for Katonah, Molly shifted a little, and Matt finally spoke.

“Do you think,” he paused as Molly muttered something and crossed her arms over herself. Once she was settled, he tried again. “Do you think they’d send someone into the city to work with me?”

“We could certainly ask,” Mohinder pointed his smile at the passing town.

“I think I’d prefer that.” 

“We’ll make it work,” Mohinder promised. He reached over and put his hand on Matt’s knee, squeezing gently when Matt dropped one of his hands from the steering wheel to place on top of his.

They were on a bridge crossing a reservoir before Matt spoke again. “If Molly decides she wants to go, maybe we can take our own vacation in that week in July.”

This time Mohinder smiled right at Matt, not caring if he could see it or not in the dark. “Thank you.”

Matt shrugged, and Mohinder didn’t need any light at all to know he was blushing a bit high on his cheeks. “You’re right about Molly needing it. I just-“

“Just thank you,” Mohinder interrupted. “That’s all.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

In the backseat, eyes still closed, Molly pressed her lips together to keep from smiling or laughing and giving herself away. _Yes!_

_I heard that._

Molly opened her eyes and sat up in the seat. “Cheater.”

Matt just laughed and looked at her in the rearview. “But you have to promise-“

“To be careful,” Molly intoned, hanging extra weight on her vowels.

“To have _fun_ ,” Matt countered.

“I think we’ve all had quite enough of careful,” Mohinder said as he ruffled Molly’s hair. “We’ve certainly earned some fun.”

“Cool.” Molly grinned and bounced in her seat a little. “So, ice cream?”

“It’s almost ten o’clock.”

Molly rolled her eyes at Mohinder. “It’s _summer_. And we’re _celebrating_.”

“She has a point,” Matt raised his eyebrows at Mohinder. “You swayed me.”

“You swayed yourself,” Mohinder insisted as Matt slowed to take an exit for a gas station. “Which, I suppose, is a call for ice cream just the same.”

Matt and Molly cheered. Mohinder shook his head, dug out his wallet, and let Molly go into the store on her own. “Thank you,” he whispered as they watched her pay.

Matt looked at Mohinder in the lights of from the gas station’s overhang. He reached up and briefly touched Mohinder’s face. “We’re not an accident. Not you or me and definitely not Molly. For all the weirdness explained to us today, those people up there aren’t an accident. Whatever brought us all together before Kirby Plaza’s still out there, and I think we’re supposed to do this.”

“Opportunity knocking and all that?” Mohinder asked.

Matt smiled. “Something like that. If I’d ignored it the first time, where would I be?”

“Where indeed?”

And then Molly was back at the car, three paper-wrapped cones in one hand and Mohinder’s change in the other. She scrambled into the backseat, and they all ate their ice cream in the parking lot of some no name gas station forty miles out of New York. Matt and Mohinder smiled at each other, Molly licked ice cream off her wrist, and somewhere halfway around the world, a woman in a small European town had an unexplained warmth wrap around her for just an instant before fading away and leaving her with the impression that the world was a little bit better that day.


End file.
